Comp Sem 101
by bornonhalloween
Summary: What happens when a scholarship athlete and an English major from opposite coasts meet in a freshman writing seminar? Will they be drawn together or forced apart by their weekly discoveries of themselves and each other? All human college coeds!
1. Prologue: Freshman Orientation

**PROLOGUE: **** Freshman Orientation**

**^EPOV^**

"Emmett, that is so not helping," I complain.

"Trust me, you will thank me later, baby bro, when you're not caught wearing something that screams 'high school'. Right off the bat, anything yellow goes home with the folks." As he says this, he plucks my Southern Conference Golf Championship polo from the pile and tosses it by the door.

I roll my eyes beseechingly toward Mom, hoping she'll rein in her older son, but she smiles indulgently. "He's just sharing his accumulated wisdom with you," she explains, watching Emmett tear brutally through the baskets of clothes in the middle of my dorm room floor.

Entering the room and buckling under the weight of a large box, Dad huffs, "I wish he would share his accumulated muscles instead. Why am I doing all the heavy lifting when I sired two strapping sons?"

Mom signals to both of us to relieve Dad, and we hop to it on her orders. Some things never change.

Taking the box from his weary arms, I chuckle, "Sired, Dad? Seriously? Are you going medieval on us?"

"Oh good," Mom perks up. "That's the box with the bedding." She gets right to work fluffing the soft, clean sheets that will attempt to compensate for the standard dorm issue extra-long, extra-thin mattress. I try to pretend I don't see the years of splotches and stains marring the blue pinstripe design of the crinkly plastic outer coating.

"Mom, you don't have to-"

Dad pulls me back with a hand at my elbow. Quietly, he says to me, "Let her be, Edward. She needs to do it."

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Emmett sending my favorite tee-shirt to the discard pile. "Oh, hell no, Em. That one stays!"

He grimaces at my light blue tee loaded with little green happy faces and the corniest slogan ever, but finally surrenders it into my waiting hand. "Give Peas a Chance? Ugh, you _do_ know I have an image to uphold?"

"I seriously doubt one little tee shirt is going to spoil your reputation as the hottest tight end ever to play at Holden U, Em," I respond, knowing full well the compliment will win me back my shirt.

He breaks into a full-on grin and agrees with me, tossing the shirt at my head. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"All right, guys, that just about does it." I turn back and see my parents standing together on the opposite side of my freshly made cot.

Emmett leaves his spot on the floor and jumps up onto my comforter like he owns the place. Folding his hands behind his head on the pillow and dangling his feet just off the end, he sighs loudly. "Nice work, Mom. Why don't you come over to my house next and set me up?"

"Sorry, Emmett. You know it's a once in a lifetime deal, and you already cashed in three years ago."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You just want to get back to your empty nest and start…what _are_ you going to do anyways? No more high school football games, golf matches, cupcake baking…"

I catch Dad giving Mom a secret little wink. "Well, it will be awfully boring without you two, that's for sure. We'll probably pick up a new hobby to occupy us- jigsaw puzzles, stamp collecting, chess, something exciting."

"Don't worry about us, we'll be okay," Mom says. Despite her words, I see that she's getting teary. Dad pulls her toward me, and the two of them surround me in a tight hug.

"My baby," Mom sniffs. Aw, hell.

"Sorry," she says, pulling back. "I promised myself I wouldn't."

"'Sokay, Mom." Dad gives me a final pat on the back and says, "Be smart. Be safe. And-"

"Don't do anything you'll regret," Emmett recites along with him.

We all chuckle, alleviating the sudden tension that seems to have sucked the oxygen out of my tiny room.

"Get up here, Emmett," Mom says, pulling him in for a hug.

"Oh, so you won't make my bed but you still want a hug?"

"Yeah, that's how I roll."

"WHAT?" I laugh out loud. "Have you been watching MTV again, Mom?"

"Listen, don't let 'em bang you up too badly on the field," Mom admonishes Emmett, ignoring me. "I've kind of gotten used to that face."

"Gee thanks, Mom."

Dad steps in, "We're going to get up here for as many of your football games as we can."

"Don't sweat it, Dad. It's not exactly like walking across the street."

"You know we'd be here every weekend if we could."

"I know," he answers, falling into Dad's hug.

"You two watch out for each other, now."

"Right back at ya," Emmett responds.

Everything has been said and we've reached that point where someone just has to cut the cord. We can always count on Emmett for that.

"Don't you two have a flight to catch?"

Dad clasps Mom's hand. "That's harsh, son." They move toward the door. Mom turns back and says, "Don't forget to call."

"Got it, Mom."

"Did I leave you quarters for the laundry?"

"Don't need 'em. We use our card."

"Oh," she says, turning back and moving through the doorway.

She stops suddenly and spins around, "Don't forget, I put all your sweaters inside the suitcases."

"Got it," I smile. Poor Mom.

"I left you some Windex and a rag…"

"Come on, Esme," Dad coaxes, winding his arm around her shoulders and twisting her back toward the door. "He'll figure it all out."

Mom turns around once more and gives me a brave smile. I do the same right back. Dad winks at me, and they turn the corner.

"I thought they'd never leave," complains Emmett. "Let's blow this pop stand and check out the fresh meat!"

**~BPOV~**

"Warwick, 303," Dad says. "Home, sweet, home."

I turn the key and open the door to the double. Since my roommate isn't here yet, I commandeer the cot by the window while Dad slides the remaining boxes through the doorway.

"I guess elevators hadn't been invented yet when they constructed this dorm," he says, mildly chagrined. His tee shirt is soaked through with sweat, and I can even see little water droplets at the ends of his moustache.

"Sorry you had to do all the work, Dad."

The single apology held dozens more in its arms-

_Sorry I wasn't born a boy._

_Sorry I've been so hard to live with._

_Sorry I made Mom leave._

_Sorry I made you worry all the time._

_Sorry I'm leaving you all alone._

"That's no problem, Bells. So, can I help you unpack before I go?"

"No, Dad. I got it. You've done too much already."

He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead. "How about getting a bite to eat then?"

"I think I'm supposed to eat at the Dining Hall with my roommate tonight."

"Oh. Okay."

He takes a brief look around the room and steps over to the window. I recognize that look. He's doing surveillance. "Make sure you keep the shades closed at night. There are boys right across the courtyard."

"Don't worry, Dad," I chuckle. There are most likely boys right across the hall, too, but if he hasn't noticed, I'm not going to point it out.

"Oh, here, I almost forgot," he says, digging a can of mace out of his pocket. "One for the road."

"Thanks, Dad. I'll put it with the others."

He nods and smiles sheepishly. "And Bella, all the blue boxes all around campus, those are for-"

"Dad, I know how it works. There's security everywhere, and I'm in Stockton, New Hampshire, not New York City. I'll be fine."

"I know, just promise you'll never go anywhere by yourself after dark."

"Sure, Dad."

"And Bells?"

"I know, Dad. First, a knee to the groin, then a firm jab under the chin…"

He laughs quietly. "Actually, I was going to say, 'Have a great time.'"

I smile with him. "Oh."

"Am I too sweaty to hug goodbye?"

"No, Dad," I answer, getting up to receive his hug. Feeling his bones right through his shirt sends a new stab of guilt right to my heart. "Who's going to cook for you while I'm away?"

"Oh, uh…don't worry. I've got it covered."

I pull away so I can see his face. "What do you mean? You've got plans already?"

"Well," he looks down at his boots. "Sue Clearwater may have offered…"

"Well, what do you know? The Chief's got game."

He smiles and chances a look in my eyes. "That's okay with you?"

"Of course, Dad. Why shouldn't you get to be happy?"

He hugs me again. "Thanks, Bells."

"All right, Dad. Run along. Your patrol car is in a tow zone."

"Bella, nobody tows a police car."

"Even with out of state plates?" We turn toward the door.

"Seriously, Bella, you can stop worrying about me now. I'm good. And you're gonna do great here."

"Thanks, Dad." One more quick hug and I send him on his way. I watch his sure steps heading down the hall. As he rounds the first landing, he pauses to wave back at me without a word.

"Love you, Daddy," I say only to myself, turning back to my room and searching for my bedding.

O)(O

"Knock, knock!" A singsong voice at the door calls out, pushing her way into the room. A stunning blonde woman, impeccably dressed in what appears to be a St. John suit in bright pink, crosses the floor and extends her perfectly manicured hand. If I didn't know better (and I don't, really), I'd think she just mugged the actress playing Elle in "Legally Blonde" and stole her costume.

"You must be Isabella," she gushes.

I stand up and take her hand, suddenly feeling grossly underdressed in my cutoff sweat pants and Muse tee-shirt. "Bella," I correct, automatically.

"I'm Abilene Hale, and over there's your roommate Rosalie."

I turn to the doorway, where a more youthful version of Abilene Hale is bounding into the room. I recognize her immediately from Facebook. She smiles broadly and rushes to my side, throwing her arms around my shoulders. "Bella! It's so great to finally meet you in person!"

She is impossibly more perfect than even her Facebook photos would suggest. An athletic build atop miles of slender leg, intense blue-grey eyes, a delicate button nose, a set of lips just begging for company, cheekbones fit for a queen; in short, Rosalie is feminine right down to the very last blonde hair follicle.

I hug her back, wondering what she and her parents must be thinking of me. Surely my profile picture hints at overweight, but was she expecting a Size 16 roommate? If they're disappointed, they're too polite to let on.

Her father's entrance completes the royal family portrait. He's dapper in his grey slacks and navy blazer. And the pink bow tie is the accessory de resistance. He crosses the room to introduce himself. "Gordon Hale. Pleased to meet you, Bella."

Their three perfect faces stare at me expectantly, as if by being here ten minutes earlier, I hold all the secrets. "So…. I put my stuff over here, but if-"

"That's fine," says Rosalie agreeably. "Ugh, I can't wait to change out of these stockings! Daddy, would you mind?"

"Oh, of course. I'll just go…" he spins around the room, looking a bit lost.

"We'll just go have ourselves a drink or two down the street while you two girls get acquainted," Abilene takes over.

"So nice to meet you, Bella," she says breezily, shooing her husband out the door and closing it behind them.

Rosalie rolls her eyes and laughs. "So."

"So."

Plopping herself down on the bare mattress opposite the room from me, she kicks off her shoes and rolls down her nylons unceremoniously. She shucks off her jacket to reveal a spare white tank top.

"Well, that's a little better," she says, getting up to dig through the box marked 'CLOTHING 1: SHORTS AND TEES'. She plucks out one of each and tosses them to the bed. Without one iota of modesty, she peels off her top and shimmies out of her skirt. I have to remind myself not to stare. In general, I'm not attracted to women, but Rosalie has a body that is worthy of ogling, even by a non-lesbianic girl.

Most of her backside is revealed to me; only her lavender thong covers the thin line between her well-toned cheeks. With practiced ease, she pops each foot through its respective leg hole, then slides her tiny denim shorts up and over each ankle, wriggling her tush and yanking on the scrap of fabric, alternating sides until it rests perfectly on her ass. I see now why she wears a thong- anything else would risk poking out below. The tiny tee she's selected is equally revealing, hugging every curve and leaving very little to the imagination.

She spins around and catches me staring, despite my resolve not to. It doesn't seem to bother her in the least. I'm guessing she's used to it after 18 years of living with a perfect body. "So," she says kindly, "should we unpack or go explore?"

"Let's go!" I blurt, feeling braver now that my roommate has met me "in the flesh"- all 190 pounds of it. My instinct would be to hibernate in the room, but roaming the campus with this exotic creature could be mighty interesting.

**^EPOV^**

"I just got a text from Jasper. He's just made it to the room. You wanna come up and meet him?"

"Sure, why not?" Emmett says agreeably. "I want to see this hot shit who won the HP Junior All-America Golf Scholastic Award."

"Em," I warn, sensing his competitive side coming out to play. "Give me a chance to get to know him before you pounce, will you?"

"Don't get your briefs in a bunch," he says, pushing open my unlocked door.

Jasper drops the shirt he was folding and turns to look over his shoulder. A wide grin breaks across his face. He rushes to me, with his hand extended. "Finally, man."

He looks every bit the part of All-American athlete. Blond hair just long enough that it needs to be swept from his eyes every once in a while, perpetual tan, strong build but not steroidal. He has an easy comfort in his own skin that I admire.

I blow out a nervous breath. Why does it feel like I'm on a first date? Freakin' hell, I'm nervous. "I know. We've been Facebook chatting since what- last October?"

"Yep, and we're finally here."

I nod. "Oh, this is my brother Em-"

"Emmett Cullen, #84, 6'3", 230 pounds. Average 60.8 yards, 65 receptions, 12 TD's, 57.1 first down percentage…"

Clearly flattered, Emmett reaches for Jasper's hand. "Dude, cut it out. You're putting my own mother to shame," he chuckles.

"It's great to meet you, Emmett. I'm a big fan. In fact, the football team's winning record is one of the reasons I picked Holden."

"Yeah, I bet you had some sweet choices." Whoa, that is not the kind of response I'd expected from Emmett. Jasper has not only disarmed him; he's positively got him wrapped around his little finger after thirty seconds. Impressive. If this skill translates to picking up girls, I am signing on as his permanent wingman.

Jasper seems embarrassed by Emmett's attention, so I step in to break up the love fest.

"Have you been out to the course yet?"

"Yeah, my dad and I grabbed a quick round before he dropped me here. Have you?"

"Not yet. Looking forward to it, though."

"We'll hit that in the morning," Jasper smiles.

"Holy shit!" Emmett runs to the window. "I think I just saw her!"

"Who?" I ask, peering out the window.

"Later!" Emmett manages, running to the door. He catches himself with one beefy hand in the doorframe, "Nice to meet you, Whitlock." And he's gone.

I watch with amusement out the window, trying to identify which girl caught his eye. Seconds later, Emmett shoots through the front door, looking frantically left then right. His body language, coupled with the fact that I can hear him swear all the way from the third floor, "FUCK!" at the top of his lungs, tells me that he's lost his girl. Easy come, easy go.

O)(O

"All right, we've got twenty minutes left. Should we go for a bunch of easy ones or one high point value?"

"We already have 225 points. I think we're in good shape. Let's just pick one last thing and make sure we get it," I answer.

"Okay," Jasper says, reading over the scavenger hunt instructions. "We've got two choices. Submersing ourselves up to our necks in Lake Chickami gets us fifty points."

"Ugh, what's the other choice?"

"Getting two girls to trade clothes with us for 75."

"That sounds…interesting."

"If we get 50, we'll probably win. If we go for 75, it will seal the deal."

"And where are we going to find two girls who want to switch clothes with us?" I press.

Jasper smiles and points across the street. "Two girls just our size at 2:00. Come on."

Fuck. As much as I didn't want to get soaking wet tonight in the cold lake, this option doesn't seem much more comfortable. I've learned in just three short days to let my roommate do the talking. I follow a half-step behind and let him work his magic.

"Girls."

"Boys," they giggle back.

"How would you like to earn 75 easy points right now?"

The one who appears to be in charge looks over the list, then she looks back at us, giving both of us a long, appraising once-over. "What size are your jeans?" she asks me.

"31. What are yours?" I ask, knowing they're smaller than mine.

"28."

"Close enough," says Jasper, immediately pulling the shorter girl to the nearest tree. Over his shoulder, he calls out, "Hurry up, Edward. We only have twelve minutes left."

My girl picks out another tree and I follow closely, one of us on each side of the wide trunk. I hear scuffling, and pretty soon, she's holding out her jeans. They look really fucking tiny.

I send up another "Fuck" to the universe for good measure as I unbutton, unzip, and peel down my own jeans. She grabs them away quickly and I hear the rustling as she pulls them up her legs.

"Don't worry," she giggles. "My shirt's really long."

I push one leg into her jeans and I realize right away they're not going past my thighs. I am going to rip Jasper's head off later. What's first prize anyways? Better fucking be worth it.

Her hand reaches around the tree again, and this time she's holding out a thin white tank top. I am too preoccupied by its length-or lack thereof- to properly enjoy the face that the girl on the other side of the tree is topless. I quickly slide my own black tee over my head and trade.

I pull one arm through her tank, and then the other, and for one scary moment, I don't think it's going to fit over my head. "Shit," I mutter.

"It stretches like crazy," she says. "Don't sweat it. I've got like twenty more."

"Thanks," I answer gratefully. She's being a champ. I twist and turn my torso until finally I've got the thing pulled down over my head, then my chest. It wants to stop at my waist, but I give it a few good tugs, and she's right- the thing stretches and expands like it was just waiting for the invitation. It doesn't quite meet the pants sitting on my legs, but it does cover up my junk and most of my ass. Good enough for the picture.

Jasper and his girl reappear, and I can't help but burst out laughing. His girl had been wearing a very short skirt and halter top, now transferred to Jasper's muscular frame, and they've switched shoes as well. Damn if Jasper doesn't look good in fuck-me pumps!

"Fuck, you look hot, Jas," I wink.

"Yeah, you're looking pretty awesome yourself," he says, reminding me of my own predicament. "Switch shoes with her. Quick!"

I kick off my flip flops and she hands me her flats. I slip my toes in, but that's about all that's going to fit.

"All right, someone snap the picture," Jasper's girl says.

"I got it," I say, pulling out my phone. We line up and I reach my arm out as far as it will go without causing my shirt to ride up.

"Can you send that to me?" my girl says.

"Sure. What's your number?"

"Gee, I thought you'd never ask," she says.

I roll my eyes and she tells me her number. I type it in and send her the photo.

"Thanks. Can I have my clothes back now?" she smiles.

"That sounds like a fantastic idea."

We head back to our tree and we exchange clothes and names.

"Well, you've got my number," Bree says. "I guess the ball is in your court. Gotta run!"

She's got my number, too, I realize too late to answer.

"Edward, come on!" calls Jasper. We've got four minutes to get back to the Student Union."

We take off after the girls, and quickly overtake them.

"Hey!" cries Jasper's girl. "No fair!"

"Sorry, Alice!" he laughs as he passes her.

Six minutes later, we reach the Union. Jasper turns in the paper and the guy at the desk marks a huge "LATE- minus 50" on the paper.

"Seriously?" I complain. "Two minutes late?"

The guy shrugs, unrepentant about our penalty. "Let me see your picture for number 27."

I show him the photo I just took and he initials the box.

The girls pull up a few minutes later to the same fate. Bree looks over at me and says, "That sucks."

"I know, right? All that work for nothing!"

I look at my roommate, who's not paying a bit of attention to our score, or anything else for that matter. His laser sharp focus is pointed in one direction, Alice. And not taking his eyes off her for a second, he smiles and answers my complaint, "Oh, I wouldn't say it was for nothing."

**~BPOV~**

I now know what hell feels like. My throat and lungs are burning, I am dripping with sweat, my feet feel like they're running over hot coals, and I fall farther behind Rosalie with every one of her freakishly long strides. I lack even the breath to ask her to slow down, so I do the only thing I can at this point. I bend over, placing my hands on my knees, and try desperately to pull some oxygen into my system.

For about the tenth time, Rose senses that I've stopped and she halts and turns back. "I'm sorry, Bella."

I shake my head side to side, but I can't say what I mean to say.

_I'm sorry I'm such a pathetic loser that I'm making you stop for me every three minutes._

_I'm sorry you're saddled with me when you could have won this whole thing single-handedly._

_I'm sorry we're going to go down in the annals of freshman week scavenger hunts with the lowest score in the record books._

I finally pant out a breathy, "Sorry."

She shakes it off. "Bella, really. Who cares about the stupid scavenger hunt anyways? I just feel bad you're having such a rough time."

"I…didn't….know…we'd….be…running…" That's it. I've used up my available air supply. I crumple miserably to the ground.

Rose leans over and places her hand on my shoulder. "Bella?"

I look up into her irritatingly unsweaty face.

"There's something I'd really like to say to you, but I'm afraid."

Well, I give her credit. She waited three whole days. That's almost a record.

"Go for it," I say, granting her permission to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp all over it.

"I can help you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

The anger building inside of me helps me gain back my voice. "How?"

She kneels down so our eyes are even. "I know about fitness."

I snort rudely in her face. "Obviously."

"No," she says gently. "I mean, I can help _you_ reach your goal."

"No offense, Rose, but what does a skinny bitch like you know about helping a fat girl lose weight?"

She laughs quietly. "None taken. And I've done it before."

"Do tell. I haven't seen any stretch marks on your body, so you can't have lost that much." Oops, I think I just admitted to ogling my roommate's naked body. I shift my eyes away.

"Not me. My little sister."

My eyes drift back in surprise. This is news. Was there another mini-Abilene at home? Someone less than perfect in that gene pool? Hard to believe.

Rose drops to the ground in front of me. "Hope was always a little overweight, but a few years ago, it just got out of control. One day last year, she hit rock bottom. I found her on her bed with a bottle of pills in her hand. I don't know if she would've done it, but clearly she was crying out for help. I convinced her to trust me. We walked together three times a week and went together to a trainer twice a week. I went on her eating plan with her. We did the whole thing side by side. Six months later, she's a new person."

"That's a nice story, Rose, but what if I don't want to be a new person?" I am fighting tears.

"You just don't seem all that happy with…the situation, Bella."

"Rosalie, I get that you're trying to help me, but if you can't accept me the way I am, we're not going to be friends."

She falls away from me suddenly, as if I've slapped her across the face. I gather my feet and lift myself off the ground. "We should get back."

Now I'm walking and she's following behind. Neither of us says another word to each other all night. When my head finally hits the pillow, I fall into a mercifully deep and immediate sleep.


	2. The Book or the Movie?

**9/7/2011**

**^EPOV^**

"First, let me give you the good news. I do not believe in giving homework over the weekend, so in my class, you will have nothing hanging over your head on Saturday and Sunday. That assumes, of course, that you turn in the assignments when they're due."

Nervous laughter and grateful chatter accompany Professor Banner's announcement.

"Now, what some of you may consider the bad news. You will be responsible for one writing assignment each week of the semester."

I add my own groan to the collection around the room.

"For your first assignment, I'd like you to write 700 – 900 words answering the question, 'Which was better, the book or the movie?' about a pairing completely of your choice. I'm okay with animation, but I would like it to be a feature length movie and a reasonable length book. Please, no reports on 'Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs." Laughter again.

"The assignment is due by start of class on Friday, and even if you can't come to class, you need to email it to me by that time. By the way, class participation is essential to your grade. You don't show, you lose points.

"Our normal pattern will be return of previous paper and new assignments given Mondays, peer review workshop on Wednesdays, assignments due and writing exercises on Fridays. Because of Labor Day, I'm assigning this week's paper today, and you'll only get two days to write it and turn it in on Friday. Questions?"

A brave soul toward the front asks, "What's peer review workshop?"

Professor Banner smiles. "I am so glad you asked that, Mr.-?"

"Newton. Mike Newton."

"Mr. Newton, after I read your papers this weekend, I will be assigning pairs of students who will work together for the semester."

"What?" "We don't get to pick?" "The whole semester?"

Complaints can be heard all around the room. I feel my anxiety level begin to spike. Whoever gets stuck with me is going to be in the professor's office within minutes begging for a new partner. I can't imagine what I could offer to my writing partner, beyond a fuckton of extra work. It isn't bad enough I'll be struggling through this class, now I have to worry about pulling down someone else's grade as well. Fan-fucking-tastic!

**~BPOV~**

Professor Banner holds up his hands, palms out, to the class. "Relax, folks. I've been doing this a long time, and I haven't lost a student yet!" He flashes a confident grin.

"Any more questions?" Nobody dares. "See you Friday then, with your printed papers- double-sided, please."

Great. Instead of breezing through what should be a slam-dunk freshman writing seminar, I'm going to have to work with some other kid who probably won't do the work and will give me useful feedback like, 'Nice job' or 'What does this word mean?'

Ugh, I sound like an awful snob, even in my own head, and I banish the evil thoughts from my head. Sliding my notebook into my backpack, I quickly find the door. I've already decided on my topic, and the thesis has formed in my head. It's a gift.

O)(O

I follow my classmates into Williams Hall and stop at Professor Banner's desk to hand in my paper. 'The Time Traveler's Wife' was a great movie, but the book was sheer masterpiece. Niffenegger's brilliance in laying out the scenes made for a fantastic mystery to solve, overlaid upon the tender love story. I tried to be balanced in my analysis and give credit where the imagery of the movie enhanced the beauty of the story. But I could never forgive the screenwriter for changing the ending so drastically.

This being a seminar format, the classroom is small and brightly lit, as opposed to the giant lecture hall where Econ is held. Today, the chairs are arranged into four groups of four. I find a seat next to a shy-looking girl whose name I learn is Angela. We are soon joined by Mike Newton and another boy who introduces himself as Ben.

"Great, I see everyone's here. Let's get started," Professor Banner says. "The writing exercise for today is colorful language. I'm going to hand each group a rather bland paragraph- and yes, these were taken from past students' papers- and I want you, as a group, to colorize it. Make us see vivid pictures, feel emotions, understand something better.

"Choose a scribe before you begin, and decide how you want to go about working as a group. However you work it is fine, as long as each person in the group contributes equally. You have thirty minutes, then we'll share."

"Obviously, one of the girls should be the scribe," says Mike.

"Why is that obvious?" I challenge him.

Realizing his misstep, he backpedals a bit. "Well, I just thought your handwriting would be neater. Mine's a mess."

"I'll do it," Angela says agreeably.

"Thanks," says Mike, obviously feeling in control. "I think we should each do a line and then put them all together."

Ben reads aloud, "If I were an animal, I would like to be a dog. Hmmm, why don't we change 'dog' to 'yellow Labrador retriever'. Wait, add '3-year-old' before yellow."

He passes me the paper. "I could play all day long. How about, 'I could spend from sunup to sundown chasing rubber balls, doggy paddling in crystal clear lakes, and sniffing other dogs' odoriferous butts.'?"

I pass the paper to Angela, and she adds colorful details about the dog's food. Mike writes well, I admit grudgingly, embellishing a sentence about interactions with his human to include loving cuddles and satisfying ear scratches. We continue in this manner until we reach the end. Mike suggests we reread the whole essay and make changes as a group. By the time the thirty minutes are up, I feel good about what we've produced together.

I also feel like I've made a new friend in Angela. She's quiet but smart, and she's not afraid to express her opinion when she feels strongly. And I think Ben is a little sweet on her. I haven't reached a verdict yet on Mike, chiding myself again to not be so judgmental when meeting new people.

"Mr. Newton, why doesn't your group go first? Will someone please read what you have?"

Angela passes our paper to me quickly, so I oblige. As I read, I hear murmurs of approval throughout the room, even a few chuckles at the right spots.

"Okay, very good. Anybody have any comments on what this group has done?"

Dead quiet.

"Ahhh," says the professor, crossing his arms. "I see I've got a shy group here. Come on, guys, this is a freshman seminar. This is your chance to use your voice at this grand university. Speak up. Share an opinion. I promise you every thought will be treated with respect."

A hand goes up on the other side of the room. "Yes, Miss -?"

"Stanley."

"Miss Stanley, are you offering a compliment, a question, or constructive criticism?"

"Oh, compliment, I guess. I liked the line about snuggling with the human."

"Can you say why?" he presses.

"I could really feel the warmth and the connection. I liked that." She doesn't know who wrote the line, but Mike smiles back at her with such enthusiasm that he gives himself away.

"Very good. Who else wants to say something?"

A kid named Eric says something about the description of the dog bed being very authentic.

"Does anyone have something critical to say?"

Noone offers anything.

"That's fine for now, but with the next group, I'd like the audience to be listening with a critical ear. That's how we all improve. Who wants to share next?"

**^EPOV^**

Jessica raises her hand eagerly, and now my group is on the spot. Just after the professor has given the orders for everyone to criticize. Jessica begins reading, "It must be glorious to simply reach out and grab the uppermost leaves off any tree I want to taste, and that's why I want to be a giraffe."

I cringe when the words I've contributed are read, "The patchwork pattern of my skin is exotic, and I like feeling unique." The final line is mine as well, "How interesting it would be to be mute, just to observe and not have to express your own thoughts."

"Good. Comments? Suggestions?"

"Bella Swan," she volunteers before asked. "The last line really moved me. You could certainly improve on the word 'interesting', but the idea that someone would choose to be mute is intriguing and…complicated. I liked that."

_Holy Shit_. _My_ idea just got a compliment! I sit a little taller in my seat and take a surreptitious peek behind me to see this Bella Swan. She's hiding behind her long brown hair, but she looks up for a second and catches me staring. I can't help the grateful smile that pulls up the corners of my mouth. Realizing I'm the author, she acknowledges my smile with the tiniest nod. It's not flirtatious or goofy. Just real. Well, there's something new and different.

O)(O

_"_Jasper, you know I don't drink-"

"During golf season. Yada yada yada. At least go get a cup and fill it with Coke then and pretend to be social. It's Friday night, we just survived our first week of classes. I want to celebrate!"

"Fine," I grumble, heading behind the bar where the scant selection of soft drinks can be found.

"Cullen, right?" says a guy I recognize as junior on the team. His ponytail is hard to forget; it sits like a giant tumor inside his Titleist hat on the course.

"Yep. Edward," I say, taking his proffered hand.

He nods. "James Sikes. You thinking of pledging PiKA or just here for Tri-Delt night?"

Neither actually, but I don't want to insult an upperclassman, so I just answer, "I'm undecided."

He leans in to make himself heard over the loud music. "Should be a juicy selection tonight; the Tri-Delts are the hottest girls in the Greek system. Do yourself a favor and get out there on that dance floor and grab yourself a handful of something blonde while the getting is good." He leers hungrily toward the dancers.

I turn to look where he's indicating and I see Jasper in the middle of the crush with a huge, happy grin. He catches my eye and waves me out to where he's dancing. There are at least three girls for every guy here. Supplying free drinks to freshman girls is a certain way to fill the room with willing, intoxicated females.

Jasper continues to gesture to me and I continue to ignore him. This is so not my scene. Warm beer sloshing over rims of plastic cups, landing on perspiration-soaked shirts and dripping onto the perpetually sticky floor. Bodies crushing together, college students acting out the age-old mating ritual. As the evening wears on, selections are made, pairs exit the floor together, heading to dark corners to move things forward. With each defecting couple, desperation grows among those not yet selected and compounds the heavy staleness in the air.

"Suh-weet," James says, crossing in front of me. "I do believe I've just found my evening's entertainment. Later."

"Later," I answer, watching with fascination as James sidles up next to a large girl standing in the shadows by herself on the opposite side of the room.

Suddenly, I feel myself pulled forward. Two of the girls from Jasper's posse have stepped off the floor to retrieve me. I'm far too sober to be interested in dancing, but I allow myself to be pulled into the fray just the same. Jasper high-fives me as I reach his spot on the dance floor. I try closing my eyes and really feeling the music, but realize that strategy is dangerous when I feel strange hands creeping up my arms.

I shake myself free and resolve to stay on alert. Suddenly, I hear a squeal behind me and Jasper's face lights up like a little kid on Christmas morning. Alice cuts right through all the tightly clustered bodies and heads straight to him, winding her arms around his neck. The three girls previously vying for his attention admit defeat and glom onto me instead. With their long blonde hair, overly made up faces, slutty tops and skinny jeans, I couldn't possibly tell them apart, not that I care to. They're the college version of the girls I knew all through high school, and they're a dime a dozen.

**~BPOV~**

"Be careful with that stuff. The grain alcohol sneaks up on you."

"Yes, Mom. I know my limits. Also, I've got a few pounds on you, Rose," using my usual defense, self-deprecation. She rolls her eyes and spins to the dance floor. Beer bottle in hand, head bobbing to the beat, blonde hair flying randomly. She manages to look right at home all by herself in the middle of the crush of people. Despite the overwhelming ratio of girls to guys, it takes only seconds before Rose is surrounded by three guys, all taking their turn with her as she spins slowly, laughing, leading them all on. 'It could be you, It might be you, Or maybe you,' her body seems to say. Rose is in her element.

And I'm in mine- holding up the wall with my shoulders. I tip the cup of grape-flavored beverage back as I watch my roommate work the crowd into a frenzy.

I observe from the shadows, trying to blend into the wall and not just look like I'm standing here awkwardly by myself, which I totally am. The only thing I can do purposefully is drink, so by the time the first song ends, I've emptied my glass.

"Let me refill that for you," someone shouts over the pounding music.

I look to my left to see who he's addressing. He chuckles at me. His teeth are perfect, and his eyes are shining with possibility. His dirty blonde hair is pulled up in a small ponytail.

"I'm talking to _you_, Beautiful."

BEAUTIFUL? Now I know for sure he's not talking to me. I drop my eyes to my empty cup and chide myself for even thinking for one second this gorgeous guy has even noticed I'm here, let alone offered to get me a drink.

"Hey." I feel fingers lifting my chin. "Yes, you." He smiles warmly.

"Me?" I say dumbly, pointing to myself with the hand holding my plastic cup.

"Yeah. You want more?" He mimics tipping a cup back to his mouth.

I shrug my shoulders. He takes my cup and retreats to the huge trash barrel holding the punch. I take a few deep breaths and run my fingers through my hair. Turning toward the wall, I hurriedly reach my lip gloss out of my front pocket and take a swipe across my lower lip. I thank my lucky stars for the dim lighting.

"Here you go, Sweetheart," he says, tapping me lightly with my refilled cup.

"Thanks."

"So, are you a Tri-Delt?"

As if.

He's leaning in right up next to my ear to talk, and I feel his moist breath on my neck. It's not unpleasant.

I shake my head. "My roommate is thinking about pledging," I answer, vaguely gesturing to Rosalie on the dance floor. He's not even interested in turning to see who I'm talking about. _You'll be sorry. _

"Freshman?"

I nod.

"Junior," he says, pointing to his muscular chest. "I'm James. I'm a brother," he says, indicating the whole room with his hands. As in,_ I own this place_.

"Hi, James. Bella."

"Becca?"

"Bel-la," I practically shout, exaggerating the "L" sound with my tongue between my teeth.

He scoots around so he's next to me with his back against the wall. He's got a bottle of beer in one hand, and he shifts it to the hand farther away from me. Into my ear, "Nice to meet you, Bel-la."

It feels hot in here all of a sudden, and he is standing so close. I can feel the hairs on his arm tickling against mine, and it's pathetic to say, but it's the most contact I've had with a boy who wasn't a relative since…I can't remember when. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I hold my right arm as still as humanly possible, not wanting to lose the almost contact, but also not wanting to appear so desperate that I'm the one who closes the distance between us. I keep sipping at my new drink, hoping the cool juice will refresh me, but somehow it just makes me feel hotter and fuzzier.

He turns his head and smiles at me, bobbing his head slightly to the beat.

"Having fun?" he asks my ear.

I nod. I sip.

Suddenly, he turns ninety degrees, so that his left shoulder is against the wall and his nose is practically grazing my cheek. Again, he leans in so close that when he talks, I can feel the puff of air brush through my hair. "So, what are you studying?"

"English," I say, once his eyes return to mine.

"Ah," he says admiringly. "Brains, too." He gives me a broad smile, and I have to wonder, is he making fun of me?

I keep sipping my drink because it gives my twitchy hands and mouth something to do. I have an idea- I can ask him a question! I lean forward urgently, just as he was about to do the same, and we bump foreheads. Ugh, could I be any more awkward at this?

"Were you going to say something?" he tries.

"I was just going to ask you what your major is." Wow. Brilliant conversation there, Bella.

"Finance," he answers.

Since I know zip about that topic, I nod back dumbly. I mean what can I ask? How much money are you going to make in your first year out? Got any hot stock tips? No, I don't think so. With the conversation at a dead-end, I revert back to my go-to activity, sipping my drink.

He peeks in over the top of my cup and grins. "Looks like you're running low. Let's go get you some more."

He pushes himself off the wall and in the same motion, grabs my right hand in his left and loops our fingers together. My heart skips three beats. He's pulling me through the crowd, and he's clasping my hand tightly, which is helpful, because I'm just floating along behind him, not even feeling the floor.

Ahead of me, his dark grey t-shirt stretches tantalizingly across the broad ripply muscles of his shoulders as he skillfully navigates us across the room without looking back. I follow the bobbing pony tail and try unsuccessfully to calm my breathing, still my heartbeat, stop my hands from sweating.

_Relax_, I tell myself. _Enjoy_. This is really happening. This confident, sexy junior, for some reason I cannot begin to fathom, has chosen _me_ over all the other girls in the room.

Finally we arrive at the punch container, and he drops my hand, turning to face me. I can see that other girls are staring at us, wondering what on earth this dazzling creature is doing with the likes of me. I have no answer for them.

James chuckles at my inaction and helpfully takes my cup to ladle out a generous serving. Returning the refilled cup to my waiting hand, he smiles gloriously. I take a healthy chug and James tips his head away from the crowd. I follow him again and find myself in a darkened corner where several couples are sprawled on low couches. Most of the couples are making out.

Panic and exhilaration shoot through me in equal parts. He gestures to an empty love seat and I sit down at the edge, curling myself to the arm. He sits dead center and relaxes back into the cushions, spreading apart his legs into an easy pose, one hand on his knee, the other minding the bottle resting on his thigh.

I take a long drag on my drink. Fresh from the barrel, it's nice and cool, and I get momentary relief. I'm diligently focusing on the dance floor, doing everything I can to avoid looking at James. Just the same, I track him with my peripheral vision, and I can see he's looking at me. He pulls the bottle to his lips and sucks down the rest of his drink. He rises suddenly from the couch and leans to my ear, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.

"I'm going to get another. Save my seat?"

I nod, mesmerized. I'm completely befuddled. He honestly thinks someone else is going to want his spot next to me?

He squeezes my shoulder lightly and winks. I feel an unfamiliar tug deep in my belly. Nerves, but something else. Anticipation, attraction, the beginnings of arousal. Disbelief is moving over and allowing space for hope to blossom.

I watch his back recede as he crosses to the bar. He has a perfect athletic build, broad shoulders tapered into a thin waist, firm ass, and a graceful stride. Note to self- here's a topic of conversation I can explore. Ask James about his athletic endeavors when he comes back.

**^EPOV^**

Movement at the edge of the dance floor catches my eye and I see James dragging the girl he picked over to the trash can, filled with some nasty concoction whose sole purpose is to loosen inhibitions. It seems to be doing just that. This girl can barely walk. As she tips back her cup, the light catches the side of her face and I realize it's the girl from my Composition Seminar. Bella, the one I thought was different.

James drags her into the "business corner" of the room- that's what the brothers call the arrangement of couches in the darkened corner. Bella looks beyond trashed, but she seems more than happy to be following him like a puppy. To each his own.

With Alice fully occupying Jasper's attention, I easily slip away from the dance floor, heading straight to the bar for a bottle of water. Emmett's words run through my brain, "Whatever you do, don't drink anything at a frat party that isn't in a sealed bottle."

I nod to James as he reaches the bar. Retrieving a bottle of Bud from his private stash in the cooler hidden under the shelf, he smiles a big self-satisfied grin and says, "See what I've got waiting for me over there?" He moves his eyeballs in the direction of the darkened corner where I saw him towing Bella earlier.

I shift my eyes to the couches and I see her reapplying lip gloss and nervously nursing her drink. I nod.

"Oh, she's not much to look at, but those are my favorite kind for a night like this."

I'm sure I have a puzzled look on my face so he explains, "That is about the most desperate girl I have ever encountered. I don't think she's ever even been talked to by the opposite sex, let alone touched. She'd give it up stone cold sober," he brags. "Not that that's the case!"

I glance back over his shoulder, and I can see that the fucker is probably right. Bella appears to be passed out against the back of the couch.

"That's no girl for the daylight hours, but perfect for the one-off dark corner, rush week, never-see-her-again screw. This is going to be the easiest lay I've ever had. Hell, I'll be surprised if she doesn't open up right there on the couch for me." He clinks his bottle against mine and gives me a conspiratorial wink that makes my stomach lurch.

I strongly suspect that I should do something to save this defenseless girl from the evil clutches of my teammate, but I can't break the Guy Code- getting between a guy and the girl who's about to let him have his way with her is pretty much the best way to commit social suicide, not to mention getting yourself beaten to a pulp. Nor would it bode well for my future on the golf team.

I'm relieved to see that Bella now has company, her roommate perhaps. My conscience takes a break as Bella is deleted temporarily from my own to-do list. James turns to see what I'm seeing, and he's less than thrilled that someone's just thrown a monkey wrench into his plans.

"Fuck, gotta go!"

**~BPOV~**

I close my eyes and let the dizzying feeling from the alcohol wash over me. My head tips back against the couch. Ahh, I am so relaxed. I am definitely feeling good now, albeit warm. But is that the effect of the drink, or the gorgeous boy devoting all his attention to me tonight?

_Squeezing and Smiling and Winking, Oh my!_

"Jesus, Bella, are you asleep?"

I am woken from my peaceful rest by my blonde dervish of a roommate pouncing on the couch next to me. "No, I'm not sleeping, Rose!"

"Then, what are you doing in the corner by yourself?"

Suddenly I feel incredibly foolish. How long has it been since James left to get a drink? Have I been ditched? Of course. Girls like me don't get boys like that. Why am I even a little surprised?

"She's not by herself. She's with me." My knight in shining armor answers. "You didn't do a very good job saving my seat for me, Sweetheart." He smiles that perfectly white, perfectly straight smile at the two of us. He's standing in front of me but he's looking back and forth between the two of us.

For a moment, I'm so shocked that he's come back it doesn't even register he wants to sit back down. He takes over for me, clearly recognizing the muddle that my brain has now become.

"Would you mind scooting just a bit, please?" he politely asks Rose.

She shoots me a look like 'Who is this scrumptious secret that you've been keeping from me, Bitch?' and I smile broadly.

"Sure," Rose answers, scooting to the other side of the sofa, leaving James the space in the middle.

James takes the hand not holding his beer bottle and offers it to Rose. "Hi, I'm James, and you are…?"

She smiles her killer smile and takes his hand, "I'm Rosalie, Bella's roommate."

Oh boy, here it comes. Dumperella. Game Over. Nobody who gets an eyeful of the Smoking Hot Hale is going to go back to the Tepid Swan.

"Ah, the Tri-Delt wannabe. Nice to meet you, Rose," James says, releasing her hand. But then, the most miraculous thing occurs. He takes said hand and he places it possessively across the back of the love seat, behind me. ME! He's barely touching my shoulders, not really any more than our arms were touching against the wall, but it feels like he just chose me. I sink back into the cushion, and allow my neck to rest just barely inside the curve of his arm.

Placing his lips to my ears, he says in a husky voice, "Miss me?"

I smile goofily, I'm sure. Rose is looking back and forth between us, trying to figure out how to file this experience in her brain. Perfect, confident man, Overweight, inexperienced roommate. Does not compute.

James leans in again. "So, any chance we can get rid of our perky blonde chaperone?"

He pulls away and I see that his eyebrows are raised expectantly. His words make me feel tingly all over. He is trying to get me alone! In the dark make-out corner! Exhilaration and terror duke it out; this time, exhilaration wins. I am going to get my first serious kiss tonight from this delicious hunk of fraternity creature, and Rose is not going to cock block me- or lip block me, or whatever.

I catch Rose's eye and roll mine madly across the room, as meaningfully as I can without moving my head and giving myself away. Take the hint. Scat! Her eyes narrow with suspicion.

"So, James, what's your story?" she purrs.

"My _story_? What do you mean?" She's challenging him, but he's smiling back, sipping his Bud, easy, confident, unworried.

"I mean, do you always pick up girls and lure them into dark corners and ply them with grain alcohol?"

Well, when you put it like that, it doesn't sound all that romantic. His eyes narrow for the briefest moment while he considers his response. "Don't you think you're selling your roommate just a bit short, Rosalie?"

All of a sudden, I realize that James is defending me to Rose. I sit up just a little bit taller and harden my glare at Rose. _Yeah, Bitch, take that!_

She clicks her eyes between us a couple more times. James. Bella. James. Bella. Then, her decision is made. "Fine, Bella, but don't come crying to me when this guy ditches you!"

My mouth drops open at her ruthless words and her mean-hearted assumptions. She pushes herself off the couch indignantly and huffs away. I am both humiliated and livid.

Sensing the wreckage, James says, "Wow, is she always that harsh?"

"No. She's never been before. Then again, I've only known her a week and a half." I wonder at what cost I've just secured my place next to this man. But as quickly as the thought occurs to me, it's swept away by the joy that I'm wanted, and maybe Rose just can't handle the novelty of the role-reversal. Could it possibly be that Rose is jealous? Of me? I guffaw on the inside.

I shake my head to clear the inner dialogue, and instantly realize that it's a dangerous gesture on my part. With the alcohol sloshing around, numbing my nerve synapses and throwing my balance off kilter, I need to stop making sudden moves. And I need to stop thinking so damn hard. I catch my head with my hand to dull the spinning.

"Whoa there, Tiger," he says. "Why don't you just sit back and relax." And he wraps his right hand protectively around my shoulder and pulls me back against the cushion again. This time, I can definitely feel the muscles of his arm cradling my neck, and I can distinctly feel every single finger on his hand as they reach around the top of my cap sleeve, touching my bare skin. Every place he's touching me feels like a tiny fire has been lit.

He wraps his other hand around my left hand, the one holding the punch cup, and brings it to my lips again. "Here, take a sip of your drink," he says attentively. I love that he's taking such good care of me, and I obey his missive.

"That's a good girl," he says soothingly. "Here, one more swallow…that's it…down the hatch," he says, emptying the cup into my mouth for me. So very helpful, this boy.

"Let me take that for you." He pulls the cup from my hand and sets it onto the floor. Taking one long draw on his beer, he drinks it all the way down as well and places the empty right next to my cup by our feet.

I'm feeling the warm rush of that last cup of punch as it races around my bloodstream. James places his left hand on my knee. Even through my heavy denim, his touch feels intimate. I'm sure I've never been touched this way before. My eyes feel so heavy, and I give up resisting the urge to let them close, allowing my head to tip back into the safety of his strong arm. He shifts next to me, pulling his right knee up onto the seat and laying it over my thigh. I feel deliciously trapped. I don't have a clue what he'll do next. Whatever it is, I can't wait.

"Mmmm, you're looking mighty relaxed there, Baby," he murmurs into my ear, sending the softest puff of air whirling inside my head. He's absently rubbing his right thumb up and down along the bare skin of my upper arm. If I were sober, I'd be self-conscious about the flabby skin, but God bless the alcohol, I don't worry about a thing. Just feel how good it feels to be touched. To be wanted.

He's nuzzling my neck with his nose and nibbling his way from my ear to my collarbone.

I wriggle and squirm, falling deeper under his spell. His left hand is rubbing ever so slowly up my leg now, I feel it on my thigh, kneading the flesh contained by my jeans.

His mouth is moving across my cheek now, coming closer and closer to my lips. I am breathless with anticipation. I have never, ever been touched this way before. I have never felt a boy's lips on mine. James fills me with hope and promise. I am sailing so high on his attentions that I almost don't notice his hand slipping under the hem of my untucked blouse.

I suck in a breath and get ready to protest, when all of a sudden, his glorious lips close over mine and he swallows all my objections in the most wonderful, warm kiss. He moans into my mouth, distracting me even further, and I feel his warm hand- all five fingers and a hot palm- touch my stomach.

My hand shoots out to stop his path, and I realize that rather than stopping him, I've simply trapped his hand against my bare skin.

"Easy, Baby, easy," he soothes, pulling his lips off mine and smiling into my panicked eyes. "I'm not going to do anything that you don't want me to."

I blow out a relieved sigh and nod my head. I must seem like a silly girl to this experienced boy, this Adonis who is wasting his affections on a prudish virgin.

"Sorry," I whisper. "I've never…"

He shakes his head no and closes his lips on mine again. His kisses are so beyond anything I've ever fantasized about, my head is spinning with the unadulterated bliss. And the cumulative effect of all the drinks.

His right hand leaves my shoulder and curls around my neck, and he's lightly running his thumb up and down the column of my neck as he drives me wild with his kisses. He's pulling me toward him on the couch, crushing my chest against his. I'm still holding onto his left hand for dear life, which is still hot against my bare stomach.

I feel his warm tongue slide across my lower lip. He's moaning against me, and I'm so lost. His tongue is on a mission now, prying my lips apart. I give in, breathless to see what sensation he'll create next. One second later, his tongue touches mine, and I soar.

"Nnnnnngggg," I groan embarrassingly. I feel his lips broaden into a smile around mine.

I can't even feel the shame I probably should, considering that we're going at it right here at the party and anyone might be watching. Instead, I have this weirdly proud feeling that I'm the one on the couch with this hunk of an upperclassman; it's my tongue he's tasting, and my bare skin he's touching. Eat your fucking heart out, Rose!

James is shuffling around now, his head moves higher and I feel him towering over me. I realize he's sitting up on his knees next to me. His chest is pushing against mine and his lips are pushing against mine, and I'm woozy and dizzy and falling backwards into the corner of the couch, and he's on top of me.

His left hand is moving all around, exploring for its own sake but stoking the fire within me as well. His thumb is making circles on my stomach, and it feels so very good. Feeling my defenses slipping away, I loosen my grip on his hand slightly, lifting the embargo but still keeping my own hand close to the situation in case of an emergency. Sensing his new freedom, he moans again appreciatively and slides his hand a little bit further up, a little bit closer to my bra.

I'm holding my breath because I know where he's going and I know I shouldn't let him, not here, not anywhere. But how can I resist? His hand feels like feathers, tickling and squeezing and caressing all that skin that's never ever been touched. His left knee moves to my lap and I am anchored down more firmly than before. I'm not sure if he'd let me up right now, and that realization spikes through my body with such a thrill that I have to pull back from his lips so I can draw breath. I'm panting like an animal and I see his lips curl up into a cocky grin that he's got me right where he wants me.

"You are so damn sexy, Bella," he growls at me, capturing my mouth once again. His fingers make contact with my bra and I shudder. I can barely feel a thing through the padding of my 40D underwire full coverage special, and I'm sure it's more material than he's encountered in a lifetime of fondling boobs. I wonder briefly again why he's chosen me, but the grain punch wipes the doubt away before it can settle in and find a home at the edges of my consciousness.

Hand number two has left my neck and is now curling its way under the hem of my blouse. With my other arm trapped behind James's body, he has full rein with this hand and he knows it. He goes for the clasp of my bra like a heat-seeking missile on a one-way trip to the sun. In seconds, he has unhooked me from my underwire prison, and his left hand slips right under and grabs my right breast. Another first!

And damn, it feels so good to be grabbed, even though I know there are a million reasons why it shouldn't. His other hand comes around front and joins the squeezing party, lifting that underwire right up and over both breasts so he's completely free to pinch and maul and that's exactly what he's doing.

He's squeezing more and more aggressively and pinching and twisting and moaning into my mouth and nibbling on my lips and pushing my tongue all around my mouth. And I'm having just as much fun as he is, I think.

That is, until I feel IT pressing against my left hip bone. This has already been a lifetime of firsts, and I can access just enough brain cells to know that I'm well outside of my comfort zone and heading straight into my danger zone.

Anxiety pushes through the fog of lust and alcohol and sends up a red flag to my addled hormone-infested brain. STOP! STOP! STOP!

I hear it in my head, but all I produce for outward sound is, "Mm, Mm, Mm!"

Placing my one free hand on his chest, I attempt to shove him off me. He either doesn't get the message or is too far gone to stop. He begins pressing against me with his hard maleness in earnest, and I know I am in big ass trouble.

I know I outweigh this boy, but he's brawny and he's got me pinned beneath him. I remember my father's self-defense training, and I'm sure I could knock him off me by lifting my left knee a mere three inches, but that would undoubtedly make him exceedingly angry. I'm not at DEFCON5 yet; I just need him to slow it down. I improvise, reaching my right arm around to the back of his head, and pull on his pony tail. Really fucking hard.

"OW! FUUUUUUUCK!" He yells, yanking his hands to the back of his head. Shit, maybe I should have kneed him in the groin after all.

"What is your problem?" he spits angrily, his chest heaving.

"Can we please just take a breather?" I request politely, giving him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he misunderstood my signals.

"But we were just getting to the good part," he argues, squeezing my protruding nipples roughly right through my blouse.

"I need you to get off me. Right now." I try to sound brave, but I'm so scared. Not so scared that he won't get off me, because let's face it, we're in the middle of a party and somebody will definitely come to my aid if I scream. No, I'm scared at his reaction to me putting on the brakes. I know what they call girls who do this.

"You fucking tease!"

Yep, that's it.

His previously beautiful smile twists into a mean, ugly grimace. I can't even figure out what I thought was handsome three seconds earlier. And worse, he's still got his knee over my leg and I'm trapped in this awful compromising position. The alcohol is making my head spin and I suddenly feel like I'm going to hurl. Wouldn't that just be the icing on this fuck cake?

I try polite once more. "I'm sorry, James. I just want to dial it down a notch. "

He swipes the back of his hand over his mouth like he's trying to wipe me out of his system. "You want to 'dial it down'? What are you saving it for? You think there's actually someone out there who's going to want…this?" He gestures up and down my body rudely.

"_You_ did," I say, pointedly looking at his crotch.

He sits back on his haunches and laughs viciously. "Seriously? I'm twenty years old. I get hard like fifty times a day. Just took me a little longer with you than most."

I scramble off the couch as dignified as possible, considering my bra is all bunched up under my shirt and I am wobbly on my feet. And now I seriously am going to puke.

"Don't come back here, you sorry, fat ass…"

I run to the exit, and thankfully make it one second before my guts decide to come out my mouth. I leave the Pi Kappa Alphas a little gift by their front door and take my sorry, fat ass home.

**^EPOV^**

It's like the car wreck at the side of the road. I know I shouldn't keep watching, but I absolutely cannot tear my eyes away. Bella's friend has abandoned her, and now there's nothing between James and his nefarious plans, short of Bella herself waking from her dizzying alcohol and lust induced haze. A pit grows within my stomach. As much as I try to convince myself that this isn't my problem, I've been raised to know that it is.

And yet, I stand rooted to my sticky spot of floor across the room. A silent accomplice. I wish I'd been drinking- at least I'd have that excuse in my arsenal to soothe my conscience.

I can do no more from here than root for Bella to get up off the couch while she still has her dignity (and presumably, her virginity). Flashes of light from the dance floor reveal their vignette in snippets to me: lips kissing; knees trapping; hands exploring; hand protesting- then relenting. I look away when James covers her body with his full weight. I can't bear witness to this act.

There's an argument that gets garbled by the noise from the dance floor, and Bella rushes past me in a blur.

"Fuck _me_, can you believe that chick?" James is next to me seconds later, pulling another bottle from the cooler and throwing his empty loudly into the recycling bin.

"Fucking fat tease!" He's shaking his head and muttering to himself. "Who the fuck does she think she is?"

"What happened?"

"Bitch pushed me away! Can you fucking _believe_ that?"

"No," I say truthfully. I have to turn away so that James doesn't see the smile breaking uncontrollably across my face.

O)(O

**~BPOV~**

I turn my key around in the lock five times, swearing and crying so hard I can't see straight. Seething with frustration, I give up, turning my back to the door and sliding down against it to the floor.

"What the f-? " I hear on the other side of the door. It opens suddenly and I am flung backwards into my room. "Oh my God, Bella. What happened? What did that asshole do to you?"

I am laying half in the hall and half in the room. I cannot imagine what I must look like, post mauling, post vomit, and post walking ten blocks. But I figure it's bad, because Rosalie takes pity on me, despite her earlier unheeded warning.

"Come on, let's get you inside," she says, attempting to lift me under my arms and slide me backwards. When she makes no headway, she sets me back down and grabs my feet instead. She lifts them, folding me until my shoes clear the doorjamb. Then she flops my legs over to the side, just inside the door, and kicks it shut behind her.

Taking a closer look at me, she says, "Bella, he didn't…fuck, Bella, _did he_…?"

"No," I cry. "Nothing like that."

"Oh thank Christ," she says, blowing out a huge breath of relief. "Do you want me to help you into bed?"

"No," I say. "I don't deserve your help. I am such an idiot. I mean, who the hell do I think I am, some girl that a good-looking boy might actually want? I'm a fucking freak show! I'm like the goddamn fat lady of the circus!"

"Hey, Bella, it's not that bad. Come on now. That guy was just a jerk. It's not your fault."

"Of course it's my fault. I let myself believe for one minute that I was worthy of a cute boy's attention."

"That boy isn't fit to wipe horse shit off the sole of your shoes, Bella. He's a user. They lace the punch with lethal levels of alcohol that you can't even taste and they just keep pumping it into you until you let them have their wicked way with you."

Rose is leaning over my face and holding my hand. I sit up on my elbows and dry my tears one more time. "Rose, I'm ready. I don't want to be like this anymore. Will you help me?"

She squeezes my hand. "Of course I will, Sweetie. You know, I love you, right?"

"All of me?"

"Every freaking inch."

O)(O

"Are you sure we're allowed to sit here?"

"Stop squawking, Bella. Just fly under the radar."

"I don't _do_ under the radar, Rose. I'm too big!"

"Cut it out. Look," she lectures, yanking my elbow to her side, "I've been waiting three whole years to see this guy in action. And I want to be good and close for our first game!"

"Fine," I surrender, letting her pull me down to the first row of the bleachers. We're sitting right behind the Hawks' bench, close enough to see every bead of sweat on the backs of the players' necks.

"Ohmygodlook!" She points to the middle of the bench. "There he is! Number 84. Isn't he beautiful?"

"Sure, Rose. He looks great from the back," I half-placate her, half-irritate her more. It's 80 degrees outside, and not all of us can get away with wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a cutoff football jersey- number 84, of course.

She elbows me for my insolence. "Watch when he turns his head. He has a gigantic dimple in his left cheek. And his teeth are so white when he smiles, you practically need sunglasses. And his eyes are like a sparkly forest of greens and browns…"

"I thought you said this is the first time you've ever seen him in person."

"It is! Sheesh, Bella, you _have_ heard of the internet?"

Suddenly, she clutches my knee with her long fingers and her nails dig into my flesh. "He's going out on the field! Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!"

I attempt to loosen her grip, but I see that resistance is futile. My roommate has entered another plane of existence. I watch in fascination as Emmett locks his helmet on and jumps up off the bench. Rose licks her lips in anticipation. I have to admit, the guy has an impressive build, though I'm not sure where muscles end and pads take over. Either way, his broad shoulders narrow impressively to a…well, a tight end. Emmett crouches into position. The ball is snapped, the quarterback looks for his mark, Emmett makes an impressive block on the defensive lineman. The receiver is free and clear to make his catch and carries the ball for a first down before being dragged down.

"Way to go, Cullen!" Rose yells enthusiastically, jumping up from the metal bench.

I give Rose's shorts a firm tug. Was Emmett's block effective? Yes. Do normal people jump up and cheer for that? No.

They line up again for the next play. The quarterback is scanning his options, tapping at the ball with his left hand while he decides who to trust, sees Emmett has escaped his defender, and lobs him a perfect spiral pass just over his shoulder. Emmett catches the ball with ease and runs gracefully down the field.

Rose is on her feet the whole way, whooping and hollering, yelling, "Cull-Min-Ate! Cull-Min-Ate!"

Nobody can catch him, and he slows his gait to a confident trot over the goal line.

Rose grabs me by the elbow. "Get up! Get up! You've got to see his dance!"

I rise with the rest of the crowd as Emmett sets the ball down, moonwalks an entire circle around it, jumps onto his hands, walks an impressive ten steps while scissoring his legs, flips back to his feet, leans over to pick up the ball and waves his ass side to side at the crowd. He trots back to the sidelines, acknowledging the wild chants of the crowd for the first glimpse of the Cull-minator. "Cullminator, Cullminator, Cullminator…"

Rose is bouncing in place, shouting as loud as her delicate lungs will allow, waving her arms about wildly. She has gone totally fangirl, and her fervor only increases as Emmett draws closer to the bench. I sit quickly, embarrassed at the attention she's commanding.

"WOO HOO!" She shouts, just as he peels off his helmet.

He can no more help turning to her voice than the moth can avoid the flame. Rosalie goes even crazier as she realizes she's captured him. She's bouncing and jumping and waving and twisting, engaging every last body part in her desperate pursuit of his attention.

And he's all man. I can see it now, every detail she described. The boyish grin punctuated by that sexy dimple, the million dollar smile, those eyes that are now fully engaged with Rose's display. He smiles broadly at Rose, as if there's not another soul in the stadium. I would live my whole life for a boy to smile at me that way. Just once.

**^EPOV^**

"Great game, Em!" I push off the wall outside the locker room and match his hurried stride.

"Fuck the game, Ed." He waves his hand dismissively. "Did you see my girl?"

"Your _girl_? Fuck the _game_?" I can barely keep up with his energy level. He looks like more like a guy who just woke up and downed a triple espresso with a Red Bull chaser than someone who just ran 95 yards and scored three touchdowns. His hair is wet from the shower and his face is flush with color.

"Remember the girl I saw out your window on move-in day?"

"I remember you going ape shit, but I never saw who you were looking at."

"I couldn't find her again that day, and it's been driving me nuts. I've been looking everywhere since. I figured she was a freshman since I hadn't seen her before."

"How can you be so sure? There are 4,000 students at this school!"

He stops suddenly and turns to me. "She's IT. That's how."

"It, what?"

"It for me. As in, I'm done. The search is over."

"Get the fuck outta here, Emmett," I say, punctuating my words with a shove against his burly arm.

He puts his hands on his hips, waiting patiently for me to get that he means business.

"You're serious? This is the last of 'The Emmettizer'? No more 'Culling for Chicks'?"

"Gone and done."

"Holy shit! Who is this girl?"

"She was in the first row today, right behind the bench." He grabs my arm and squeezes to make sure I'm paying attention, "Blonde hair, blue eyes, legs up to her neck, fantastic rack. She was wearing my jersey!"

"Emmett, half the girls in the stands were wearing your jersey today."

"Not the way she was, brother." His recollection of her shirt is obviously a very happy memory. His face looks like it might break he's smiling so hard.

"Please tell me you got her name this time, Em." I can't help but smile back at his enthusiasm.

He pulls a rolled up piece of the program from his pocket and reads, "Rosalie Hale, 555-633-9090, Warwick 303."

O)(O

"That is a sweet swing you got there, Edward. You do that on the course, too, or are you one of those guys who's just big on the range?"

I ignore his innuendo. I've heard it all before, always from guys who fall short. "The swing is the swing," I shrug, sailing the drive just short of the 300 flag.

"Wow, I'd love to be able to do that," Jasper admits, hitting well short of me.

That is definitely not something most guys would say. But then, my roommate is not most guys. "It's not like you have any trouble scoring," I say from behind him.

He chuckles briefly at the overtone. "Not usually, but an extra fifty yards would certainly help."

I watch Jasper take a few swings at the station in front of me. He's fluid and graceful, but I see exactly where he's losing power. I'm pretty good at seeing things. But I've learned- the hard way- that people don't always appreciate "helpful advice" at the range. And I'm betting that would apply to an All-American, playing number one on the team.

So I do what I do best, I keep my mouth shut and go back to hitting balls. Jasper turns around and watches me for a few before saying, "Seriously, Edward, that is one hell of a drive."

From behind me, James grumbles, "Why don't you two get a fucking room? Jesus Christ, can we just hit some balls in peace here?"

Jasper laughs at his crankiness. "We already have a room, James."

Jasper's stopped hitting entirely now, and he's simply watching me, legs crossed, leaning on his club. I hit a few more with his eyes on me, before he interrupts my next swing and says, "Teach me that."

**~BPOV~**

"See, there's another advantage to taking long brisk walks outdoors. You don't get scenery like this sitting on the couch," Rosalie says, pointing out the line of boys hitting balls at the driving range.

As we get closer, I recognize a familiar body. One that was on top of me two nights ago, in fact. I almost don't recognize him with his ponytail tucked away, but even with his back to me, I can definitely tell it's James.

Before I make my hasty getaway, the boy in front of him turns around to speak to him, and I realize it's the guy from Comp Sem who wanted to be a mute giraffe. The guy with the sweet, shy smile.

He's friends with James? Okay, let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe they're just teammates. Even if that's the case, James has probably told him everything that happened. I feel humiliated all over again. How am I going to face this guy tomorrow morning in class?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thank you for all the alerts and support for this new venture! A FEW of the writing assignments are still up for grabs, so I've decided to try something new and make this interactive (on purpose, this time!). If you feel inspired, please share a creative writing idea that you think Professor Banner might assign. Be forewarned, I've already written ten and it's only a semester-long course!

Or just send me a note and let me know how much you hate James! Or maybe you've been the girl on the couch? And maybe Rose is actually a good kid after all? And what about the mute giraffe...? ~BOH


	3. Most Prized Possession

**9/12/2011**

**^EPOV^**

"_I would've liked to have seen more robust details from the book, including how characters differed from the movie version, and which you liked better. Why so hard on the actor who played Cedric Diggory? You need a stronger conclusion. You've left room for improvement, Mr. Cullen, but don't worry, you _will_ improve. B-"_

Not great, but not my worst grade by any stretch. And considering I never read any of the Harry Potter books, I'd say I did pretty darn well. As long as I keep my GPA above C minus, I'm good to play, and that's all Coach cares about anyways. I get my diploma, they get their wins.

"Okay, so good first attempt, folks. I tried to let you each know where you lost points, but if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact me at any point in the process. Email me, visit my office during posted hours, call if you're desperate. If you're serious about improving, I'm here for you. Though anything after 5 pm on Thursday is going to be ignored.

"Let's take a look together at some highlights and lowlights from these papers."

Professor Banner proceeds to click on the whiteboard to display a number of excerpts from different papers. He teaches using the examples anonymously, pointing out good use of colorful language, strong thesis statements, weak conclusions (mine), and grammatical errors.

"That brings us to this week's assignment: What is your most highly prized possession, and why? There's nothing scholarly about this one. I'm looking for an emotional connection. Whatever it is that you choose to write about, I want you to describe your attachment to it so that I feel it in my guts. This one should be around 500 words- longer won't get you a better grade.

"Okay, we have ten minutes left. I'm about to read off the partners. Before I do, let me say that I've put a lot of thought into pairing you so that each of you can learn from the other, and I'd like you to please try to remember that as the semester wears on."

I can't imagine what someone is going to learn from me.

"When I read your name, stand so that you can find each other. Then, pair off please and exchange contact information. The bulk of the peer work takes place on Wednesdays, so please bring a solid outline to class so that you and your partner will have something to discuss. There's no requirement or restriction about exchanging ideas with your partner outside of class. Each pair should do what feels comfortable. But please, respect each other's boundaries. Here we go…"

All I pray for is that he doesn't pair me with Bella Swan. I don't think I could face her knowing I let James take advantage of her vulnerability. Luckily, she doesn't know I was there. But _I _know, and it shames me still.

"Jessica Stanley and Mike Newton. Edward Cullen…" I rise, hoping for any one of the twelve remaining acceptable choices.

**~BPOV~**

"…and Bella Swan."

Shoot me now! He did not just put us together. I stand on shaky feet and twist my body to see mute giraffe boy. He looks none too pleased at the pairing. Considering our only interaction in the classroom was perfectly pleasant, I have to assume he knows what happened with James. He must think I'm the biggest slut in the freshman class. Or maybe the biggest tease. Jeez, which one is worse? I don't even know.

I pack away my paper (_"Insightful, concise, convincing. Nice start, Miss Swan. A")_ and hoist my backpack over one shoulder. Edward makes the first move to a set of chairs along the side of the room, and I follow with heavy footsteps. Professor Banner has been clear enough that there will be no reassignments, so I resolve to do my best to make this work.

"Bella?" He says, then waits for my nod. "Edward."

"Hey." I panic for a second, thinking he might want to shake hands or something equally awkward. Luckily, he keeps his hands to himself, and we leave it at that.

"So, should we…?" He points vaguely to the chairs and shuffles into one of the seats.

"How do you want to do this?"

"Why don't you call my cell and then we can both fill in the contact info. My number is 714-774-4477."

"Really? That's pretty cool."

"Oh," he says, dipping his eyes to his phone. "We applied for a special number because…of my…dyslexia."

"Oh."

Shit. Now what do I say? Sorry about your disability? Thanks for sharing? Damn. I stick with 'Oh' and dial his number. His phone lights up and _I'm Alright_ by Kenny Loggins starts playing. He looks even more embarrassed and answers quickly to cut off the music.

He mumbles, "Caddyshack," and slowly types in my name. "So your email is belswan at holden dot e-d-u?"

"Actually, it's 'isaswan'. Isabella," I answer his unasked question. "And yours is…?"

"Edwcullen." He spells it out for me as I type it in. "Should we get each other's room numbers?"

"Makes sense," I answer. "I'm in Warwick 303."

"Wait, did you just say Warwick 303?"

"Yeah, why?" He has a huge grin on his face now.

"I think my brother met your roommate at the game."

"Your brother? Oh shit, _Cullen_, of course." I think back to Emmett's dark coloring, huge dimply toothpaste commercial smile, and easy manner, trying to identify similarities. Edward's watching me, as if reading my mind.

"The eyes," he offers helpfully, drawing my attention to his deep, green eyes. "That's about where it begins and ends," he says, almost apologetically. "So I'm in MacNeil 301."

"You're kidding! You're right around the corner from us in the Lower Quad."

"Yeah, that should make things convenient if we ever need to get together outside of class," he says.

People are starting to shuffle out of the room now. We get up and walk toward the door together. "By the way," Edward starts, "thanks for your compliment last week."

I must look confused because he adds, "Mute giraffe?" to clarify.

"You're welcome. And it was nice meeting you, Edward."

"Yeah, you too, Bella."

O)(O

"God, Bella, Emmett is so divine," Rose gushes, bouncing onto her bed and folding her legs underneath her. "I got banned from football practice today."

"You went to football practice? In THAT?" Rose is wearing the same outfit she wore to the game.

"I wanted to make sure he'd recognize me from the game."

I laughed. "I don't really think that would be a problem, Rose."

"Well, Emmett was just going out for a pass when I arrived, and he got a little…distracted…and the ball hit him square on the forehead." She's laughing recalling the memory.

"Shit! Did he get hurt?"

"No, just a little dazed. That guy has a pretty thick head."

"Don't they all?" I muse.

"So, he jogs over to the bleachers after practice and he says, 'Sorry, Rosie, Coach says you can't come to practice again.' Then he whips out his phone and asks if he can take my picture instead."

Her phone buzzes and she laughs when she looks at the screen. "He's taken a picture of himself and sent it to me. The caption says, 'Fair is fair.' Is he cute or what?"

She taps out a response.

"So, Rose, guess who my Comp Sem writing partner is. Emmett's baby brother Edward."

She squeals. "You're shitting me! That's amazing! Is he cute? Does he look like a mini-Emmett?"

"Actually, aside from the eyes, they don't seem to have anything in common in looks or personality."

"Too bad for him! So what's he like?"

"He seems nice, kind of shy. I get the feeling he's had to work really hard to get where he is. And maybe it hasn't always been easy to live in his brother's shadow."

"What's he look like?"

"Actually, you saw him on Sunday out on the driving range. He was standing in front of that asshole James from PiKA."

"He's on the golf team? I bet he's adorable."

Adorable? I haven't really thought of him that way, I've been so preoccupied with what he must think of me. "He's about Emmett's height, but he's not nearly as broad. Still, he's solid, just skinnier. His hair is much lighter, almost with a touch of red, and kind of wild. He has a quiet way about him and a nice smile. And he's got these green cat's eyes-"

"Mmmm, those eyes!" Rose says, flopping back on her bed.

"Rose, I'm starved. What's on the meal plan tonight?" She hates it when I use the word 'diet'. She says it has negative overtones.

"Quinoa with vegetables and tabbouleh," she smiles cheerfully.

"Ugh. Let's go get it over with already."

**^EPOV^**

I take just my putter out of the bag room and grab two sleeves of balls from the rack. I don't even want to be tempted to practice with another club. Putting grounds me, and after two full days of classes, I need all the grounding I can get.

Walking out to the practice green, I reflect how Advanced Algebra didn't really prepare me for Pre-Calc, at least getting a "C" in the class didn't. It's only a matter of time before I need a tutor for that class. I thought Psychology would be easier, but the reading material is dense and the professor is demanding. History of Jazz should be a respite from reading and writing. The teacher seems cool and easy-going. Comp Sem is a giant question mark at this point.

I empty the boxes onto the green and start my routine, placing the balls in a straight line leading away from my body. I get into a rhythm and putt each one successfully the six inches into the hole. I repeat the pattern from six inches farther, and continue, allowing my mind to focus only on the stroke. Moving the balls out to eighteen inches, I make all but the last one. Patiently, I begin again at six inches. It's a stiff penalty for just one miss, but I welcome the discipline of the drill. It's familiar and effective. I rarely miss anything inside three feet on game day.

Once I make all six three-footers, I move to a different hole and practice some longer putts. I don't know this green yet, not the way I intimately knew my home course in Orange. But it's all about practice. I move around until I can feel the breaks and regulate my speed more accurately. Before long, the sun is beginning to set and I can no longer use putting as the diversion from mapping out my paper for tomorrow.

O)(O

"I'm going over to Alice's to hang for a bit. You want to come?"

"I can't, Jas. I have this outline due tomorrow."

"You've been working on that since dinner. Why don't you come take a break? Her roommate's cute- you remember Bree from the scavenger hunt? She's dying to see you again."

I consider whether to tell Jasper the truth. I haven't even started my outline yet. I've been sitting at my desk for an hour trying to figure out what to write about. I've broken two pencils in frustration and wadded up the entire first third of my three-subject notebook.

Fuck it. He's going to find out sooner or later that he's not rooming with an intellectual giant. I think back to our time on the range, when Jasper so readily asked me for help. And how it made me think more of him, not less.

"Jas, I don't even know where to begin."

He crosses to my desk and takes a look over my shoulder. "You don't have anything? After all this time?"

I bang my head down onto the desk and cover my head with my arms.

"Okay, what's the assignment?"

"I'm supposed to write about my most highly prized possession."

He thinks for a bit before answering, "Driver? Putter? Trophy?"

I push up and refold my arms under my chin. "Those won't make for an interesting paper. It's supposed to be something with…feelings attached to it." I groan in agony.

"Okay," he says, plopping down onto my bed. "You'd probably have your most prized possession with you at school, right?"

"I guess so," I say, becoming slightly hopeful.

"Well, what did you bring with you then?"

"Clothes. iPod. Laptop. Pictures."

"Pictures? Now we're getting somewhere. Where do you keep those?"

I push off my desk and open the thin drawer in front of me. Jasper approaches from behind me and moves me to the side, taking full command of my life. He gathers up the scattered photos and flips through the pile, asking questions as he goes. I answer dutifully.

"Mom, Dad, Emmett. Prom."

That catches his attention. "She's cute. Anyone special?"

I shake my head no.

"Okay, this doesn't seem to be the right place to look. What else have you got? Wait, what's this?"

He digs up a large Ziploc bag from the back of the drawer.

"Notes."

"What kind of notes?"

"Just notes I've gotten over the years from campers."

"Here. Pick out the best one and read it to me," he says.

I pick through the bag, knowing exactly which note I'm after, but I don't feel comfortable reading it to him. "I can't, it's too personal."

"Isn't that the point?" he smiles winningly.

And now I have my subject. "Thanks, Jas."

**~BPOV~**

"So, basically, the music connects you to your mother?"

"Right. The manuscripts are all marked up with her fingerings and notes," I answer him.

"And you play this music?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he responds maddeningly.

"What do you mean, 'okay'?"

Edward shrugs. "I mean, I see the connection."

"But…?" I sense that he is holding something back.

"Nothing. It's good."

I sit back in my chair and fold my arms. I see the other pairs working with heads together all around the room while Professor Banner circulates. We better learn to talk to each other or this partnership is not going to work. "That's not very helpful, Edward."

Shit. He looks hurt now. I try a direct prompt, "Don't you have any suggestions how I might improve it?"

He bites his lip and stares at me. I feel like he's sizing me up to see if I can handle his criticism. Eventually, he says, "I guess I don't see why these particular pieces are so special to you. I mean, I'm guessing your Mom writes in all her music?"

Pretty fucking insightful for a guy who's known me for all of three minutes.

"Yeah, she did," I answer, deciding how many beans to spill. "This collection was her last concert."

Poor Edward turns white, and I immediately realize what he thinks he's done. "Shit, Bella, I'm such an ass-"

"No, Edward, don't. It's not that."

He slumps back in his chair and lets out a relieved sigh. He waits for me to embellish.

"This was the concert my Mom gave three days before she left my Dad and me."

I meet his gaze cautiously, and I really admire the way he holds onto me with his eyes. We're not really friends, so it's not like I expect him to give me a hug or anything. But I have to say I feel comforted by the fact that he doesn't shy away from the tough moment on the table between us. It makes me feel safe with him.

"So are you going to write about that?" he asks quietly. Not making any judgments, just asking.

"I haven't decided. Do you think I should?" I find myself really caring about his opinion.

He smiles. "Professor Banner did say we should hit him in the guts."

I smile back. "Thanks, Edward." I give it a moment and then I gather my materials. "Your turn."

With a groan, he opens his notebook to his outline and passes it to me with great trepidation. I'm looking at a bare bones outline that is not particularly organized, and I can't get a good read on what he's trying to say.

I remind myself that this is a guy who has trouble getting his thoughts down on paper, but that doesn't make them any less astute.

"Help me out here. Tell me about this note."

He starts rooting in his backpack, and I understand he's about to produce the subject of his paper.

"Wait," I say. "If the essay is good, I shouldn't need to see the actual note."

"That's a big 'if', Bella."

"We'll get there," I reassure him.

I notice he sits up a little straighter in his chair when I mention 'we'.

"Start with a physical description of the note. What kind of paper is it on? What did…LeVon write with? How was his spelling?"

"Okay, hang on. You're going too fast. First of all, the paper was ripped out of one of those blank pads you get at the grocery store. Even though there were no lines, he wrote really neatly with a pencil, like he used a ruler under his letters. You can tell because some of them are straight across the bottom. And his spelling was awful, way below fourth grade level. But, -"

Edward gets a faraway look in his eyes recalling the memory. "He was so careful to spell my name correctly. He'd never heard my name before- in his neighborhood, Edward is not exactly common- and he made me write it down on his hand for him the day we first met."

I jot that down while Edward continues.

"What were the exact words he used- not all of them, but which ones give the reader the best flavor?"

"He wrote, 'Thank you Edward for helping me hit the golf ball so far. It makes me feel very good about myself.' And at the end, he signed it, 'See you on the Tour! And don't worry- you already have my autograph at the bottom. Your friend, LeVon Lewis'."

"That is awesome. I can see why you chose to write about this."

"He was a really special kid. He was so teachable. He just needed a chance."

"Tell me more about LeVon. What was his situation?"

Edward talks and I take notes. There's plenty here to fill three pages, but it's only a 500-word essay. "This is fantastic stuff, Edward. I think the only other piece you need to fill in is the conclusion. Can you remember how you felt when he first gave it to you?"

"The last day of camp, most of the kids brought little treats for their counselors. Being the golf instructor, I got a few things, but not many. So I was surprised when LeVon approached me at the range and handed me a big bag filled with homemade oatmeal chip cookies. He handed them to me and said, 'These are from my Mom,' and I thanked him. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out this note- if I showed it to you, you could see that it's a little crumpled. He held it out so proudly and said, 'And this is from _me_. I hope I got everything right.'

"He stood right next to me while I opened it up and read it. I told him it was perfect and he hugged me. I remember feeling on top of the world, that I could reach this boy and help him feel better about himself. The fact that he shares some of the same challenges as I do in school really helped us bond. And rereading the note always takes me back to that moment where he drove the ball farther than ever before, and he looked up at me with this face filled with so much pride. I guess there's really nothing better than helping another person achieve his best."

I am once again blown away by the depth of this quiet guy in front of me. I turn the notebook around so he can see what I've written.

"Here's your outline," I inform him.

"Wow, Bella. That's great!" He perks up, seeing the fruits of our combined labor.

"It's all you, Edward. I just listened."

"Yeah, you did," he smiles. I can almost detect a note of disbelief in his voice.

**^EPOV^**

"Your swing arc is too steep. Try to flatten it out." I watch a few practice swings before he tries it with a ball.

Jasper slices three balls off to the right. But the fourth ball flies straight. And long. "Holy shit! That felt different!"

"Looks good, Jas," I chuckle, happy for his success. "Ten thousand more and you'll own it."

He snorts and hits several more seven-irons before trying his driver. "Here comes the moment of truth," he says, swishing his club through the air. He tees up the ball, steps back and takes one more practice swing. He puts a nice backswing on it, but brings it through fat and hits the ground first, taking about thirty yards off as well as throwing it left.

"Slow the backswing down a little, just until you get comfortable with it."

Two more swishes, one more practice swing, much slower this time, and Jas rips through the ball on the exact right plane. He hits the sweet spot of the driver and the ball takes off with the perfect trajectory, soaring past all his previous drives. He's got that Sports Illustrated pose, club resting over his shoulder, perfect hip turn, and a gigantic smile on his face.

He's still in that statuesque position when he says, "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

I chuckle, "Here, all this time, I thought it was my boyish charm and chiseled chin."

"Yeah, buddy, I'm all about the chin."

I see a blur of movement over Jasper's shoulder and zero in on two girls walking quickly on the path that winds behind our mats, a buxom blonde and a larger girl struggling to keep pace. The brunette stops for a second and waves to me. After taking a closer look, I realize it's Bella.

"Hey," I call and wave back, realizing one beat too late that I've attracted all kinds of unwanted attention to them.

Jasper swivels his head to look behind him. "Whoa, who's the blonde?"

"That must be Emmett's new love interest."

"She's hot. Who's her friend?"

"That's her roommate Bella. She's my Comp Sem writing partner."

"Nice?"

"Yeah," I answer.

From the other side of Jasper, James scoffs, "Oh yeah. She's a real nice girl."

"Cool it, James," I warn. The girls aren't that far away and I don't want Bella to hear his derisive words. For that matter, I don't want Jasper to hear them either.

"What, you're going to defend that fat cocktease now?"

"Leave. It. Alone," I growl, hopefully just loud enough for him to hear me.

"Fuck this," he says, gathering his clubs. "I've got better things to do than stand around with a couple of faggot whale lovers."

"He's a charmer," says Jasper in the wake of James's exit.

**~BPOV~**

"Who was that?" Rosalie asks, as we reenter the woodsy trail just past the range.

"That's Edward Cullen."

"Aha!"

"Aha what?"

"Aha, he's cute."

"Yeah, I guess." I was thinking sweet, but cute fits too, I guess.

"Bella," she laughs, "you really haven't noticed how cute he is?"

I shrug. "Did you see that jerk James right behind him? It looked like he was saying something about me to Edward."

"Ugh, would you please ignore that big snake? He doesn't deserve your time."

"I just hope he hasn't spread his venom."

O)(O

****From:** **Edward Cullen**  
>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Prized Possession  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/15/11 12:30 PM

_Bella,_

_How would you feel about proofreading my essay before I turn it in tomorrow? _

_If you're busy or you just don't want to, no problem. But if you do have a chance to look it over, I would really appreciate it._

_And, by the way, I'm more than happy to read yours if you want._

_Let me know- I have a match soon but I could email it to you right now._

_Thanks,_

_Edward_

Edward's email request spreads warmth across my chest. I feel needed, and it's such a wonderful feeling. I force myself to wait all of two minutes before replying.

**From:** Bella Swan  
><strong>To:<strong> Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Prized Possession  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/15/11 12:32 PM

_Edward,_

_Of course I'll read your paper. Send it along._

_Good luck with your match! _

_Bella_

_PS-Don't worry about proofing mine. You already gave me what I needed to finish it in class._

I would so love to ask him more about his match, like '_Can I please come watch?'_ But I'd rather be specifically invited than put him in a position where he can't say no.

**From:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Prized Possession  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/15/11 12:33 PM

**Attachment**: Note From LeVon . docx

_Bella,_

_Thanks a million. _

_Edward_

**^EPOV^**

Jasper and I find our opponents and get in queue for our 2:20 tee time. I am definitely anxious about playing the first match of my college career, but being out here with Jas helps calm my nerves. I'm grateful that we're playing one and two, and I hope we can both maintain our positions and keep our pairing throughout the season.

"Jazzy! Jazzy!" It can only be Alice. Golf spectators just don't normally get that rowdy. Sure enough, he locates the little pixie in the crowd and gives her a goofy grin. I see she's brought Bree, and I give her a friendly wave. Of course, somewhere out here are Emmett and Rosalie.

Since we're the home team and he's the lower handicap, Jasper tees off first and hits a beautiful drive straight down the middle, one of his longer shots. "One down, sixty-three to go," he quips to me privately, referring to the course record he intends to break.

I switch places with him and tee up my ball. I loosen up with a relaxed swing, blow out deliberately, and step up to my first collegiate tee shot. Without further ado, I take my backswing and drive through the ball in a motion as familiar to me as breathing. My ball sails straight ahead, lifts slightly with perfect topspin, bounces just beyond Jasper's ball and rolls another thirty yards.

"Woo hoo, Eddie! Great drive! Way to go!" Great, now I know exactly where Emmett is. Halfway down the fairway, I locate my brother and his girlfriend. I give them a slight chin nod. You'd think it was the Masters from Emmett's enthusiasm. Our opponents tee off with similar results, and we all hoist our bags onto our backs and march forward. Jasper moves along the edge of the fairway, and Alice and Bree pace themselves along with him. I finally reach my brother.

"Eddie, meet Rose. Rose, Ed."

O)(O

Near the second tee box, Emmett sees Jasper with Alice and puts two and two together. I catch their banter before it's my turn to hit.

"Alice, right? I'm Edward's big brother Emmett."

"Hey, Emmett, great game last week! This is my roommate Bree."

"Alice, Bree, meet Rosalie," says Emmett helpfully. "If you couldn't tell, babe, Alice is with Jas."

Rose asks the obvious question, "So Bree, are you with Edward?"

My ears perk up at hearing my name mentioned.

"Well, he did get in my pants," she answers, sharing a private joke with Alice.

"Don't forget your teeny, tiny tank top," Alice supplies, causing another avalanche of giggles from Bree.

O)(O

Emmett and Rosalie are still following my progress on the back nine, but more often than not, they walk several yards ahead and I'm left alone with Bree. I find myself staying to the middle of the fairway, where I don't have to entertain her or make polite conversation. Or listen to her giggly nonsense about my muscles, my strength, my tan.

After all, this is my golf match, not a first date.

I shudder at the thought of a date with Bree. Now that I've spent the last hour seeing how she operates, I am so not interested.

By the end of the thirteenth hole, Jasper has already won his match, and I'm up three with five to go. Though they're no longer in competition, Jasper and his opponent play out the remaining holes with us.

Fourteen is a long par four, and my extra distance helps me secure the hole. Now I've got him dormi- best he can do is tie me with just four to go. All I have to do is tie one more hole and I've won the match. Fifteen is a par three over water. My opponent hits a competitive tee shot inside my ball, but if I sink my putt, I win the match.

I hear a low growl, "Eddie." It's Emmett, reminding me to stay focused and calm. Bree chimes in three octaves higher. "Sink it, Edward!" I block them all out and take my customary practice stroke. I step up confidently and put a nice smooth stroke on the ball, following it right into the hole with my putter head. It drops with a satisfying thunk in the hole, and I've won my first match wearing the Holden shirt. I shake my opponent's hand and get a more enthusiastic response from Jas.

Emmett pumps his fist on the sideline, and I smile over at him and the girls. Emmett gestures the universal tipping back of the imaginary mug, signifying a celebration.

O)(O

"To the A team!" cheers Emmett, and the six of us clink mugs. Mine's filled with Diet Coke, but I share in the spirit of the victory just the same.

"Edward, I've never seen anyone hit the ball so far," gushes Bree. Which might actually mean something if she'd ever seen anybody hit a golf ball _ever_.

"How about that new swing, Jas?" I deflect. "How did it feel today?"

He laughs, "I think it needs a few more weeks at the range, to be honest. But it didn't cost me anything today."

"Sweet chip-in on ten," I recall.

"And what about twelve?" says Alice. Jasper looks pleased that she remembers his successes. He holds her a little bit tighter. Meanwhile, Rose is practically on Emmett's lap.

"So, Rosalie, you and Bella like to walk?" I ask, curious about their jaunts past the driving range.

"Yeah, I'm kind of her personal trainer. Bella's determined to lose at least thirty pounds."

"She could certainly use it," comments Bree, pushing in a French fry.

"Down, girl," warns Alice.

"What? I'm just stating the obvious."

Ignoring Bree's rude comments, I ask, "When did Bella make this decision?"

Nonchalantly, Rosalie says, "After the frat party at PiKA during orientation. She got totally abused by that douche bag James who's on your team. It was pretty awful, but it lit a fire underneath her to finally do something about her body."

"Wow. That must've taken a ton of courage for her to ask for help."

Bree snorts, "Yeah, a ton."

Alice whacks her. "Lay off the fat jokes, Bree."

I quickly finish my burger and make a lame excuse to leave. I'm eager to see what Bella thought of my paper.

**~BPOV~**

Rose doesn't get back to the room until after 9.

"How'd the match go?" I try to ask nonchalantly.

"Great, Jasper and Edward both won their matches, and the team won 5-3."

"Jasper?"

"Edward's roommate. Nice guy, cute-if you like blonds."

"Must've been some celebration afterwards."

Rose guffaws. "Pretty tame, actually. Just the three guys, Jasper's girlfriend Alice and her roommate."

"Oh. Did it seem like she was with Edward?"

She snorts. "It seemed like she _wanted_ to be, but he was pretty actively ignoring her."

"He was?"

"Yeah. In fact, he was asking about you. He's noticed our walks by the driving range, and I told him how hard you'd been working…"

"Oh shit. you didn't!"

"I did, and Bella, you should be really proud of yourself. You've already lost five pounds in less than a week, and you're already starting to move better."

"It's all relative, Rose."

"Anyways, Edward was really impressed by your determination."

"He was?"

"He was. You were right about him, Bella. He is a really nice guy."

"Oh, that reminds me, I want to see what he thought of my edits."

I rush to my laptop and click on my email.

**From:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Prized Possession  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/15/11 9:14 PM

_Hi, Bella. I made all those changes you recommended. __Thank you again for looking over my paper for me._

_See you tomorrow in class._

_-Edward_

O)(O

I linger outside the classroom until the last possible moment. Sure, I'd love to go right on in and take the nearest seat to Edward. But I don't want to seem pushy or desperate. Just because he has to sit with me on Wednesdays doesn't mean he should be stuck with me all week. It's impossible for me not to see him when I come in, so I give him a little smile that I hope carries no obligation on his part.

I take the chicken shit way out and slide in next to Angela after turning in my essay.

The hour passes quickly, albeit boringly. Grammar is really not a challenge for me. I'm thankful my ninth grade teacher was such a stickler that I don't even have to think about it anymore. It's as natural as breathing.

**^EPOV^**

I turn in my paper on the way into class, my confidence in this essay about tenfold the first assignment. I know the difference is Bella. I look forward to telling her so when she arrives. I take my usual seat in the back cluster of four chairs.

Bella files in with a group of other students just before Professor Banner begins. She places her paper on top of the pile and takes a seat up front with her friend Angela, acknowledging me with a tight smile.

Shit, I didn't think she was irritated by my request to proofread my paper. But now, I have to wonder if I've taken advantage. The writing exercise today is a torturous grammar lesson. Professor Banner is of the opinion that every college student should properly use its/it's, who's/whose, they're/their/there, and I/me. This exercise is followed by comma drills. When he finally releases us for the weekend, I am enormously relieved.

"Hey, Bella." I accidentally startle Bella coming up close behind her as she's gathering her belongings. "I bet those drills were a snap for you."

She shrugs.

"Do you have another class now?" I ask, heading toward the door with her.

"Not until 11. How about you?"

"I just have Psych and then I'm done for the day. We get an early finish on Fridays in case we have to travel for an away match."

"Do you?"

"No, not this weekend. We've got home matches Saturday and Sunday."

"I know Emmett's away. Rose wanted to stow away on the team bus."

I laugh. "Yeah, I don't think she'd be safe on that bus. Even with Emmett's protection. Some of those guys are animals."

Then again, not everyone on the golf team has perfect manners, as we both well know.

"So, do you have any big plans for the weekend?" I ask, trying to get a read on her.

"I promised Rose I'd go to O'Hara's with her and watch the football game."

"Oh."

"You want to come?" she asks me.

"Thanks, but I can't. I have a match."

"Oh, of course. I heard you guys did really well yesterday."

"Yeah, we did. Have you ever watched golf before?"

I shrug. "My Dad's a fan, so I've watched on TV a few times…."

"But..?"

"Nothing. I used to get my homework done while it was on."

"Ouch."

"Oh, shit, Edward, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

I laugh light-heartedly. "It's okay, Bella. Maybe I can convert you."

The guilty look on her face makes me smile.

O)(O

"Riley, I feel really stupid lying on this huge ball. Are you sure this is going to help?"

He scoffs at me. "Trust me, Edward. There's no better way to work on your core. We're going to turn your cute little six-pack into a fierce eight-pack in just a few weeks."

I know Riley's reputation, so I put my trust in him and bounce around dutifully on the enormous ball.

"So, Riley, what do you do when you're not putting spoiled Holden athletes through their paces?"

"I have some private clients on the side. Keep that right side tight while you do these reps."

"Do you have any gym space that's more private than this?"

"Cullen, are you flirting with me?"

"Sorry, Riley, you're not really my type. I'm trying to find a way to help a friend."

"Does your friend _want_ help?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure if she wants it from me."

"She? Tread carefully, Edward. And let me know. Meanwhile, give me fifteen on the other side."

**~BPOV~**

"I'm happy to go with you to the golf match today," says Rose. "I mean, the football team is going over the tapes of yesterday's game until late this afternoon."

"No, Rose, let's just take our regular walk. If he's warming up, maybe I'll see him."

"Bella, you know damn well he'll be warming up. Just admit you want to see him."

I shrug as if it makes no difference to me whether I see Edward Cullen or not. But we both know I'm lying.

"Fine, then, let's take a different route today-" Rose suggests.

"No!"

She smiles smugly. "That's what I thought."

"Nobody likes a know-it-all, Rose," I complain sourly.

"You know, he'd probably love it if you showed some interest in his sport and came to watch him. Instead of pretending to just be passing by."

"How do I know that, Rose? It's not like he's asked me to come."

"Are you sure that's not where the conversation was heading Friday after class?"

Damn her for twisting his words. I knew I shouldn't have told her about my brief conversation with Edward.

"Did he not tell you he had matches on Saturday _and Sunday_?"

"He did," I admit.

She puts her hands on her hips. "Well?"

"I just don't feel comfortable until he specifically asks me."

Frustrated, she blows out a mouthful of air. "Well, Emmett sure is lucky I didn't sit around waiting for an engraved invitation to attend the first football game!"

"Rose, if I looked like you, I wouldn't wait either."

"Just for that, you're carrying three-pound weights today. Now, get a move on, Swan!"

* * *

><p>HEY, DL Panda (guest)...thank you for your sweet review! I figured I'd try to catch you here before you got past this chapter. It's the only way I can reply to a guest review. I really appreciate your review. That's it! B<p> 


	4. Best Qualities

**9/19/2011**

**^EPOV^**

"'...and he looked up at me with this face filled with so much pride. I guess there's really nothing better than helping another person achieve his best.' Here is a great example of a conclusion that reaches deep and makes an impact."

Whoa. Who would've thought I'd be the _positive_ example in writing class? Professor Banner is passing back the essays. He gives me an extra long look as he hands mine to me, and I think I see a hint of a smile on his face.

'_Rapid improvement, Mr. Cullen. Meaningful subject, clear organization, grammatically perfect. You roped me in emotionally. Excellent work. A' _

"This week's assignment is going to involve a pre-writing exercise in class, so if you'd all please grab a clean sheet of paper and a pen…"

Rustling ensues as everyone tucks away the paper just returned and finds a new piece. I am excited to share my achievement with Bella, who's sitting right in front of me today. But Professor Banner doesn't allow time for chit chat with only ten minutes left in class.

"I'd like each of you to spend the next five minutes writing down ten adjectives that describe you in a negative manner. I promise you do not have to turn these in. They're simply for your own illumination. Begin."

_Stupid. Selfish. Boring. Cowardly. Awkward. Irresponsible. Insecure. Shy. Naïve. Dyslexic._

**~BPOV~**

_Impatient. Stubborn. Critical. Desperate. Judgmental. Lazy. Intolerant. Inexperienced. Passive. Fat._

"Okay, let me tell you why I just tortured you. This week's assignment is to write 600 words about 3 positive qualities you have and convince me why they describe you. It's been my experience that for every one good thing we say about ourselves, three negative words lurk in the background. So we've gotten those out of the way, with one extra for good measure. See you Wednesday."

I spin around in my seat, eager to hear good news from Edward. It has to be a good sign that Banner's used his paper as a positive example.

"So? What'd you get?"

Edward's glowing as he slides the paper toward me. I feel his eyes on me as I read the comments and take in the grade. "An 'A', Edward! Wow!" I am so happy for him. I know what this represents.

"Thanks to you," he says quietly.

I shake my head, unwilling to take credit for his ideas. "No, Edward. You did this. I just helped you reflect."

"Whatever. We did it together. Seriously, Bella, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Shit, I didn't even ask how you did."

"I did fine, thanks." '_Brave choice. Well written. You kicked me in the guts. A'_

I quickly fold my ten negative adjectives and shove them to the bottom of my backpack. "Brutal exercise, eh?"

"Tell me about it. Glad he didn't make us write about those."

"I'm not sure finding positive words is going to be any easier for me," I admit.

"Really? I can think of five off the top of my head for you."

I chuckle. "Maybe he should've asked us to write about each other instead. That would've been a ton easier." _Humble. Kind. Insightful. Gifted. Sweet. Adorable._

He laughs. "Mind if I email you if I need a word or two?"

"Not at all." _You can email me about anything you like._

**^EPOV^**

My words for her go unsaid as well. _Intelligent. Generous. Articulate. Creative. Unspoiled._

"So, are you and Rose walking today?"

"We walk every day. What time is your practice?"

"We'll be at the range at three."

"Maybe I'll see you."

"I'm counting on it, Bella." I have a feeling she's been timing her walks to match my appearances at the range.

O)(O

The negative comments are rearing their ugly heads, but I can't dig up a positive adjective anywhere. I even Google 'positive adjectives' and read through a list of fifty, none of which applies to me. As embarrassing as it would be to ask Jasper for help with this topic, I would do it in a heartbeat if he were here, but he's out with Alice tonight. I decide to hold Bella to her word, though I'm not sure she was serious when she made the offer.

**From:** Edward Cullen

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Tuesday, 9/20/11 7:31 PM

_Bella,_

_I need a word. Or two. _

_Or maybe three?_

_HELP!_

_Edward_

**From:** Bella Swan

**To:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Tuesday, 9/20/11 7:42 PM

_Edward-_

_Here's one to get you started: Insightful._

_Why don't you ask Jasper or Emmett for one?_

_Bella_

**From:** Edward Cullen

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Tuesday, 9/20/11 7:45 PM

_If I were truly insightful, would I be having so much trouble with this assignment? What is the proof for that word anyways?_

_E_

_PS- Jas is out tonight. Can't ask Emmett, he'll just make fun of me!_

I hope she doesn't think I'm a pussy for that message.

**~BPOV~**

I reflect back to the way his piercing eyes saw right through me last week, understanding what I'd been hiding, without even knowing me.

**From:** Bella Swan

**To:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Tuesday, 9/20/11 7:48 PM

_E-How about the fact that you knew I was skirting the real issue with my paper last week? (insightful)_

_Try these words on for size- see what fits for you: kind, humble, gifted (as an athlete and/or teacher) ~B_

I decide to leave out 'adorable' for obvious reasons. I'm already walking a thin line here throwing complimentary adjectives his way.

**From:** Edward Cullen

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Tuesday, 9/20/11 7:54 PM

_B- It's possible that was more embarrassing than asking Emmett! Thank you for your help, I will figure it out. See you bright and early. _

_Edward_

O)(O

"Mind if I get mine out of the way first?" he asks, handing me his open notebook.

I catch his embarrassed eyes before switching my gaze to the words in front of me. "Could you please try to relax a little? You're making me nervous."

"Sorry, just…" he gestures to me to look already. As I lift the notebook, I feel the presence of Professor Banner over my shoulder. I twist my neck and look up at him.

"Pretend I'm not here."

Oh sure. Edward's spilling his guts to me and now we have a witness to the disembowelment. Edward cringes even further. I focus on the words.

_Disciplined- practicing putting._

_Loyal- Jacob coming out._

_Friendly- Jasper?_

"I like the first two, and it looks like you've got solid support for each one. But friendly is…kind of…"

"Lame?" Edward supplies.

"I think you can do a lot better," I tell him.

"I agree," says Professor Banner, before moving on to the next group.

"Edward, it seems to me, you're incredibly honest. Can you come up with an example for that?"

He chortles. "I can, but I'm not sure everyone would agree that's a positive trait."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Last week, I asked Bree not to come to any more of our golf matches because she was interrupting the flow of my golf karma."

"Ouch. Who's Bree?"

"Jasper's girlfriend Alice's roommate."

That confirms Rose's impression of the situation. I try not to break my face holding in the enormous smile that threatens to escape.

"Okay, that's maybe not the most positive example, but I'm sure there's something else. Ever tell someone a difficult truth that they really needed to hear, and they thanked you later?"

**^EPOV^**

"Hmm, come to think of it, I once told Emmett I didn't like one of his girlfriends and he was grateful later. Actually, until Rosalie, I didn't like _any_ of Emmett's girlfriends!"

"So, you have what you need to write the essay?"

"Yeah, thanks. That wasn't so terrible. Okay, your turn." I hold out my hand for her outline, which is lying face down on her desk. She flips it over reluctantly and hands it to me. I know it's difficult for her to expose herself this way. God knows, it wasn't easy for me either.

Determined- TO LOSE WEIGHT (eating right, exercising)

Responsible- Taking care of Charlie

Organized- Bookshelves

"Who's Charlie?"

"My Dad. I basically cooked for him and took care of everything around the house after Mom left."

"Wow. How long ago did your Mom leave anyways?"

"I was in fifth grade."

Shit. What a cruel thing to do to a little girl. "You haven't seen her since?"

"Haven't heard a word. She fell off the face of the planet, as far as I'm concerned."

"I'm sorry, Bella. That must've been rough."

"It was, but it made me strong."

"Hmmm, 'strong' might be more interesting than 'organized'."

"Yeah," she admits. "You're probably right. I guess I took the easy way out on that one."

"Do you have a proof example for strong?"

"I have a hundred. Know how much abuse I took in high school for my weight?"

"I can imagine," I say, though I realize as soon as I say it that I really can't. At least not firsthand. But I do know how much heat Jacob took for admitting he was gay, and I imagine hers is a similar story.

Something nags at me about her adjective choices and she picks up on my agitation. All she has to do is raise an eyebrow and I'm spilling my guts to her.

"Okay, so I'm not good at hiding my feelings. Mr. Honesty, remember? I feel like these three adjectives taken together paint this gruff picture of who you are. It entirely leaves out how generous you are with your help, how easily words come to you, how easy you are to talk to."

She slumps back in her chair exactly like a sail that's just lost its wind.

"Jeez, Bella, have I done it again? Shit, I'm sorr-"

"Edward, could you please not apologize for saying the nicest things anyone's ever said to me before?"

"So, Bella, can you be brutally honest with me about something?"

"I'll try. What is it?"

"Did I overstep my bounds asking you to proofread my paper last week?"

"No!" she answers quickly. "Why would you think that?"

Now I'm really confused and a bit embarrassed. "It's just that…it seemed like you might have been angry with me last Friday when you came into class." Oh God, I am such a girl. And a girl in middle school, at that.

"You thought I was angry at you?"

Seriously? Why did I start this stupid conversation again? "It seemed like you were ignoring me. Never mind, I'm obviously misreading the situation."

But she doesn't let it go. "You mean because I didn't sit with you?"

I may as well be wearing a skirt and panties at this point. I have to look away. But she calls my attention back with a soft, "Edward?" and I turn toward her voice.

"I didn't sit with you because I thought maybe you'd want a break from me. I mean, you're stuck with me on Wednesdays, but I just assumed you'd want to branch out a bit on the other days."

"Oh." Wow, the depth of this girl's insecurities is beyond what I'd imagined. Wait, maybe she's trying to tell me something. "Do _you_?"

Now I've turned the tables on her and she's blushing madly. "No."

Well, isn't that interesting.

"So, it would be okay with you if I email you my paper some time tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"And maybe you'll share yours with me this time? Since I don't even know for sure what your third adjective is?"

"Sure."

"And I'll save you a seat on Friday?"

She smiles but doesn't meet my eyes. "That'd be great."

**~BPOV~**

I send my paper to him first, both as a gesture of trust and to prove that I welcome his request for help.

**From:** Bella Swan

**To:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/22/11 5:30 PM

**Attachment**: 3 Positive Adjectives . docx

_Edward,_

_For your reading enjoyment- LOL!_

_Please send yours along when you finish._

_Bella_

**From:** Edward Cullen

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/22/11 5:45 PM

_Bella,_

_I like your choice of caring as your third word, and the example of tutoring kids with their reading illustrated your point well. I'm still writing mine but will send it as soon as I'm done. _

_Edward_

I hurry Rose to dinner so we can be back before Edward sends his paper. "So what kind of lettuce is for dinner tonight, Rose?"

"Ha ha ha. Meanwhile, your pants are looking a little baggy there, Miss Bella!"

I hadn't noticed it before, but now I see that she's right. "Shouldn't we celebrate with ice cream sundaes or something?" I suggest hopefully.

"Yeah…no. You have to find new ways of rewarding yourself that don't involve ingesting calories. How about I give you a pedicure later?"

"I feel like I should be giving you the pedicure for helping me."

"I love sharing your success, Bella. Watching you shrink and get stronger is my reward. Speaking of strength..."

"I know, I know. I need to add strength training to the regime. I'm just not ready to go down that path quite yet."

"Okay, but you will be surprised at how quickly you'll see results. Muscles will appear where you've never seen them before!"

"Just give me a little more time, Rose."

**From:** Edward Cullen

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/22/11 7:05 PM

**Attachment**: 3 Good Things About Me . docx

_Bella,_

_Be gentle._

_Edward_

_PS- But be honest!_

**^EPOV^**

Waiting for Bella's response makes me anxious. I pace for a while, then start bouncing golf balls off my spare putter.

"Hey, what's got you all wound up?" Jasper asks, familiar with my nervous tell.

"I'm waiting for Bella to read my paper."

"Her opinion is really important to you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I realize. "I trust her."

"So, when do I get to meet this mysterious girl?"

"I don't know. We're in Boston all weekend for the Invitational. Maybe next week some time?"

I shrug. I know Bella's not comfortable around the team because of James, so that makes things harder.

**From:** Bella Swan

**To:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/22/11 7:17 PM

**Attachment**: 3 Good Things About Me . docx

_Edward,_

_Your first drafts are definitely getting better!_

_OMG- is that really how you practice putting? I had no idea how much repetition was involved. Don't you ever get bored?_

_What you wrote about Jacob makes me want to get to know him better. Sounds like loyal is a perfect word to describe you as a friend._

_And I love what you wrote about Emmett and how he reacted to your advice! I'm so glad you cleared the path for my roommate!_

_I made a few edits for grammar, but your ideas did not need any help at all._

_Bella_

**From:** Edward Cullen

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: 3 qualities  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/22/11 7:24 PM

_Thanks, Bella. I see why you made those changes._

_So, putting practice. No, it's not boring. In fact, I find the repetition and discipline help my mind rest when things are bothering me. My golf coach in High School used to say 'Hard work is its own reward.' (Note proper spelling of its!) You need to come see for yourself. Maybe you'd even enjoy it?_

_See you tomorrow. E_

I push Send and look up to see Jasper watching me intently. "You do realize you're grinning like a fool, right?"

O)(O

"Hey," I smile, as Bella takes the seat next to me.

"Oh, I see what you're all about, Edward Cullen. Friday is writing practice, and you just want me on your team so you can finish up early."

Bella seems to be one of those people who use sarcasm to deflect difficult feelings. I don't push her…yet.

"You see right through me, Bella. Maybe I should have described myself as transparent."

"Okay, everyone," Professor Banner begins. "Today's lesson is on the power of active voice…"

**~BPOV~**

"So, are you and Jasper going to the football game on Saturday?"

"We have an away tournament this weekend. We're going to BC tonight and won't be back until Sunday late afternoon."

So much for seeing Edward at the range "by accident" this weekend. Or sitting with him at the football game. Or my latest obsession- looking for Edward in the Dining Hall. Pathetic. Stalkerish. There are two good negative adjectives that should've been in my top ten.

"When do you get all your homework done?"

He cringes. "I have a little time this afternoon before we leave, but the rest will have to be Sunday night, I guess."

"Is that going to be hard for you?"

"Well, the Pre-Calc doesn't take a lot of time. I either get it or I don't. Usually I don't," he admits. "But the Psychology is deadly. It's so much reading and I'm not that great at taking notes, so I end up going over it about four times. It's pretty torturous."

"I have a pretty good note-taking system," I blurt. "I mean, not that you asked for help."

"Are you kidding? I would love your help. We're only two weeks into classes and I already feel the material slipping away from me."

"Listen, I'll get the rest of my work out of the way this weekend. If you need help on Sunday, just give me a call and we can get together."

"You're going to help me with a subject you don't even have? Bella, that's-"

"What friends do for each other, Edward."

Please accept my help. Don't make me beg to spend more time with you. Just say okay.

He looks at me carefully, as if trying to decide if he'd be taking advantage if he says yes. Little does he know, I want him to.

"See, Bella? Generous."

I can hardly contain my glee. "So is that a yes?"

A small, relieved smile teases the sides of his lips. "Yes. Thank you."

**^EPOV^**

"These Boston girls are pretty big golf fans, huh Jas?"

"I think it has less to do with the golf and more to do with the golfers, buddy," he laughs.

We're making our way up the sixteenth fairway, and I notice two girls are shadowing Jasper and me on the sidelines. They're shameless in their desire for attention, and their clothes are most definitely not golf-course approved. They're enjoying a sunny fall day, sipping from water bottles that I suspect are spiked, whistling, cheering, and flirting with a building fervor.

"Hey, Holden!" two singsong voices call out. Jasper and I look over to see them clinking together their plastic drink dispensers in our honor. Jasper tips his hat in a gentlemanly fashion, which only eggs them on even further.

I sink a long putt for birdie, and one of the girls shouts out, "Way to score, Cullen!"

I'm surprised to hear them use my name, but then I realize they've got a program with pictures of all the players from each of the twelve schools competing here this weekend.

O)(O

This is one of the few events where Jasper and I get to compete as a team, and we easily beat our opponents from Connecticut College. Our two loyal fans are waiting for us after we post our winning score.

"Great match, Jasper," one of them says, batting her eyelashes at Jasper.

"So, have you two ever been to Boston before?" the other one asks.

Per usual, I let Jasper, our designated talker, handle the situation. "No, we sure haven't, but I hear the girls are very friendly."

I roll my eyes, but the girls just giggle. "My" girl answers, "We do like to show our visitors a good time."

"Is that so?" Jasper plays along, letting his slow, southern drawl play out more than I've ever heard it before.

"Mmm hmmm," his responds.

"It doesn't seem fair that you know our names and we don't know yours," Jas says.

"I'm Melody, and this is-"

"Let me guess- Harmony?"

Melody gives Jasper's arm a friendly pinch. "No, silly, her name is Britney."

Of course it is.

Britney asks me, "Are you always so quiet, Edward?"

"Mmm hmm," I say, which sends them both into a fit of laughter. Easy crowd, made easier by large quantities of alcohol in the middle of the day, apparently.

Melody takes charge. "So, can we give you guys a tour or something?"

"We'd love to, girls, but we have a team dinner and the coaches' meeting after that."

"So how's about after that?" Britney asks, with one of the hungriest looks I've ever seen in a girl's face.

Jasper looks at me and smiles. Then the bastard says, "After that, who knows?"

The girls see their opening and dive right in. "So, will you call us later then?"

I'm shaking my head no as their eyes are on Jas. "Sure thing!"

Melody takes the lip gloss from her pocket, writes her phone number on the edge of her program, and blows on it till it dries. She tests it to make sure it won't smear, then folds the paper in half and sticks it into Jasper's front pocket with a wink. She holds up her spread pinkie and thumb in the international symbol for 'Call me' and they make their exit on a cloud of giggles.

"Mind telling me what the fuck that was, Jas?"

"That was me helping you get laid, roommie."

"Ugh, Jas. Thanks but no thanks."

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Edward, I love you, man, but how long has it been?"

"Hell, I don't know."

"Well, that's way too fucking long."

"Jas, I don't think we should-"

"Think about it. This is a freebie. What happens in Boston stays in Boston. This is a no-brainer."

I have to admit, the idea does have some appeal. It's not like I have to see this girl again around campus and deal with regrets or awkwardness. He senses my hesitation and takes that for a yes.

"Good man."

"What about Alice?"

"I'm not doing anything with Melody, Edward."

I am much relieved to hear that my roommate is not a man-whore. Though I'm not exactly sure what this makes me. Maybe just a normal eighteen-year-old guy?

I laugh. "I'm not sure she's going to take no for an answer, Jas."

"Come on, Edward, you heard the speeches at Orientation. No means no!"

"Are you sure that applies in Boston?"

**~BPOV~**

I refresh the website one last time and see that Edward and Jasper have won their match. Now, the dilemma- how long do I need to wait before texting him my congratulations so that he won't think I've been cyber stalking him all day? I give it 45 minutes.

_- Hey, congrats on your match! B_

He doesn't respond for almost two hours.

_-Thanks! Sry it took me a while. Coach kept us locked up w/o cell phones._

_-So, how's Boston?_

_-Very friendly._

I have no idea what he means by that, but I decide that's enough for the night.

By the time I wake up on Sunday, Jasper and Edward are already on the tenth hole, and they're beating a team from Bates by two at the turn. The website refreshes itself automatically every three minutes, so I finish my paper for English Poetry while I monitor their progress.

I still feel a little foolish the way he cut off the conversation last night, so I vow not to be the first to text this time. I don't hear from Edward until he gets back.

**From:** Edward Cullen

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Psych anyone?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Sunday, 9/25/11 4:47 PM

_Bella,_

_I'm back. If you were serious about the help, I sure could use it!_

_Edward_

**From:** Bella Swan

**To:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Psych anyone?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Sunday, 9/25/11 4:50 PM

_Edward,_

_I'm serious. Where do you want to meet?_

_B_

**From:** Edward Cullen

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Psych anyone?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Sunday, 9/25/11 4:51 PM

_My room? Jasper is heading out soon so we won't be interrupted._

_E_

OMG- Edward's room. Alone with Edward in Edward's room. I'd love to suggest a more neutral spot, like the library, but it would just seem silly to go all that way when we live down the hall from each other. Besides, I'm sure he doesn't have one thought in his head that isn't totally innocent and he would probably get totally weirded out if he knew how uncomfortable this makes me. To be so alone with him.

I think his absence this weekend has only intensified the growing crush I seem to be developing on this poor unsuspecting creature. _Get a grip, Bella!_

I answer him the only way possible.

**From:** Bella Swan

**To:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Psych anyone?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Sunday, 9/25/11 4:53 PM

_B right there_

**^EPOV^**

Jasper was wrong. What happened in Boston didn't stay there. I brought it back with me to New Hampshire. Sitting like a lead balloon in my stomach. I guess I'm just not a One-Night-Stand kind of guy.

Britney couldn't have been sweeter. Or easier. Or louder, I remember with a dark chuckle.

And Jasper was only trying to help. Even Melody was a good sport, though she was majorly disappointed that she wasn't going to "Go All-American", as she put it.

I thought the worst of it was pretending to enjoy her company at the match today, fighting to not find her laughter grating and her comments irritating. But I didn't find relief from the dark feelings on the bus ride home. And now that I'm back in my own room, I still can't shake it.

I toss my traveling clothes into my laundry bag and take a shower before I dare email Bella. Even so, I feel like somehow she'll know what I've done, and that thought adds a new layer of regret.

I'm pulling on my shirt when I see that she's agreed to come to my room.

"You're about to meet Bella," I tell Jasper.

"Well, it's about fucking time. What's she doing here anyways? I thought you didn't have homework over the weekend in that class."

_Embarrassing._

"She's going to help me with something else."

"Really? What?"

"Psych."

"She's in your psych class?"

"Not exactly."

"She's in another section?"

"Not exactly." Fuck, Jas. Let it go already.

"I don't get it."

"She's helping me, Jas. Okay?" I know I'm sounding whiny now.

"Okay, okay."

And we're saved by a knock at the door. Jasper rushes ahead of me to get it.

"And you've got to be the famous Bella I've been hearing so much about."

Fucking Jas.

But Bella's cool with it. "I guess I could say, 'Right back at ya, Jasper!'"

He's pleased with her ease. "Come right in. I was just on my way out, but I'm so glad I had the chance to meet you, Bella."

"Same here, and congratulations on your wins this weekend in Boston," she says.

Ah, somebody's been checking up on me. I'm glad all she knows of our weekend is whatever was reported on the athletic website. I don't think she'd be too impressed with my escapades with the Beantown Babe.

"Thanks, Bella. Okay, you two. I'm outta here! Later!"

**~BPOV~**

And just like that, we're alone. And Edward is standing in front of me in jeans and a tee, obviously fresh from a hasty shower. His hair is dripping wet and his shirt has those telltale water marks from putting on your shirt before you're all the way dry. And of course, nothing on his feet. Damn the boy. He has no idea what he does to me.

"So, good weekend in friendly Boston?"

He recognizes my reference and smiles somewhat sheepishly. Ah, so it is what I suspected.

"Uh, yeah." He rubs the back of his neck anxiously. "So….should we…?"

Okay then. I'm grateful that he doesn't elaborate on that particular theme.

"Yeah. Where do you work best?"

"When I have to write, I usually sit at my desk. Let me just pull Jasper's chair over for you."

Their room is similar to ours. The two beds are parallel to each other on opposite walls, their desks are side by side facing out the windows. I notice Edward's windows face the front of the building, whereas ours face the back. We have a much quieter space, but theirs has the advantage of being more in the middle of the action, probably what most people would prefer.

He's dragged Jasper's chair right next to his. He pulls out his Psychology book and the notebook labeled 'Psych'. We both take our seats, and now the two of us are crammed into the tiny space under his desk. _Awkward._

He looks expectantly at me. I need to get a handle on where he is. "Why don't you show me what you've done so far?"

"Okay, but remember, I warned you."

I give him an encouraging nod, and he opens his notebook. For the first two chapters of the book, he's got a few lines of notes scratched out, and after that- nothing.

"How many chapters is the class up to?"

"Four," he says in a pained voice, his eyes flashing to mine for a reaction.

I try to keep my face nonjudgmental and definitely not panicked, though I am starting to feel the oppression he must feel at being so far behind the class already.

"Okay," I say calmly. "Looks like we've got some work to do."

Sitting so close to him, I can actually feel the breath he pushes out at my words. He's told me the worst, and I'm still here. And I'm staying confident for him.

"Let me show you how I go about tackling this."

I slide his notebook in front of me and hold out my hand for his pen, which he eagerly surrenders.

"Hey, Bella?"

"Hmm?" I am already skimming the chapter to pick out the main points.

"Before we start, I just want to thank you again for doing this. I mean, I'm sure you have lots of other things you could be doing right now, and…"

"Edward, it's fine. I'm happy to help. Really."

"Okay, well, just…thanks."

We are sitting way too close for this conversation. I don't trust myself to look at him right now. So I don't.

O)(O

"Where have you been all this time?"

"I told you, Rose. I went to help Edward."

"That was four hours ago!"

"Yeah. So?"

"That's a long time!"

"He needed a lot of help."

"Bella," Rose says quietly, and this is how I know I'm about to get really upset. "I think it's really sweet and admirable that you want to help this guy-"

"This guy? Rose, it's Edward. You _know_ him. You're dating his brother…ring any bells?"

"Okay, you want to help _Edward_. But you know, the University offers free tutoring services to all their scholarship athletes, and Edward definitely qualifies. You don't have to be the one to help him with every subject."

"I'm not helping him with Pre-Calc or History of Jazz, and I'm his _writing partner_ in Comp Sem."

She gives me a sharp look. "How many writing partners are giving suggestions on Tuesdays and proofreading every Thursday?"

"Rose-"

"Don't 'Rose' me, Bella. You know I'm right."

"Why are you trying to make me feel bad about being his friend?"

"It sounds a bit one-sided to me, Bella. Does he even have any idea how you feel about him?"

"Not unless you said something to Emmett." The very thought of that sends a shiver of panic straight through my spinal cord. "Rose, please tell me you didn't do that."

"Of course, I didn't, Bella. And I won't." She holds my stare, and I believe her. Because really, I have no choice. I couldn't live with the alternative- that Edward does know I'm starting to have feelings for him and he's just using me.

"Rose, look at it this way. Edward knows he's entitled to free tutoring services. So why is he asking me for help?"

"Oh, I don't know. You're down the hall? You're willing to spend four hours with him on a Sunday night? You pump up his ego?"

"Wow, that's not really how I would hope Edward would answer that question. I'd say it's because I _get_ him, he trusts me, and he gives me something, too."

"I'm sure you're right about all of those things. But honey, you have got it _bad _for him. You know that, right?"

"Hell, Rose, are you really gonna make me say it? Out loud?"

"Bella, you know I'm not trying to hurt you, right? I mean, I'm trying to save you from being abused again."

"Rose, I do know, and even though you're killing me here, I do appreciate what you're trying to do. But Edward is not James. He's my friend. And I can pack away my feelings and be his friend back."

"Okay, Bella. I hope you're right. But it's been my experience that packed away feelings usually come unpacked at some really inopportune moments."

Rose's words of warning churn through my system, causing unwelcome dreams of jack-in-the-box lids popping violently open to expose bobbing clowns that look suspiciously like me.


	5. Superpowers

**9/26/2011**

**^EPOV^**

"Wow, you look happy today," Bella observes as I slide into the seat next to her.

"I guess I didn't realize how much it was weighing on me that I'd fallen behind in Psych. I woke up feeling about ten pounds lighter."

She snorts. "I wish it were that easy for me."

Well, I'm already in the quicksand. "So, um, Bella, I know you've been working really hard with Rose. How much weight have you lost?"

She smiles proudly, "Actually, I just hit ten pounds this morning."

"That's great!"

"It's a start," she says. "That's the hardest part."

"Good morning, all," says Professor Banner, effectively cutting off all conversation in the room. "In addition to handing back your papers, I thought it might be amusing for everyone to see all the positive adjectives that were used, so I've compiled a list for each of you. I will leave it to all of you to try and match who wrote which adjectives. You might be surprised," he chuckles.

"Nice work, Honest Ed," says the professor as he hands me my paper. _'Strong word choices, excellent proof. Solid A paper. Keep up the good work.'_

I turn the comments proudly to Bella so she can see my grade. It's as much her achievement as mine, maybe more. She's working so hard to help me.

I point to her paper, even though I know it's another 'A' and she doesn't want to show off. "Share?"

Reluctantly, she turns it toward me on her desk so I can read, _'I'm glad you selected different dimensions of yourself. It's going to be your biggest challenge as a writer, but reap the biggest payoffs when you're courageous-A'_

She underlines 'different dimensions' with her finger and points at me. "Insightful little bugger."

I let that compliment sink in. It's not every day I feel I've earned one so powerful.

Even though there isn't a lot of discussion today in class, I like having Bella next to me. We tend to share a similar sense of humor, so we do lots of synchronized eye rolls and snorting. Also, we have gotten to the point where we know enough about each other to understand how the other will respond to certain topics. Some of the other writing partners seem to be developing a similar comfort level with each other- Angela and Ben, Mike and Jessica- but the rest of the class still mixes it up on Mondays and Fridays.

"You can't see this from the list, but the same person who described himself as humble also used the words intelligent and athletic." This strikes me as extremely funny, and I slap my notebook, accidentally send my pen sailing onto the floor between our desks. Bella and I reach down to pick it up at the same time and our arms rub together for a second. She pulls back as if shocked by an electric spark.

I noticed last night in my room that Bella seemed skittish to any accidental touches as well. I wonder if it has to do with the James fiasco. Or maybe it's even worse, something traumatic happened in her past. I wish she felt more comfortable with me, but I'm respectful of her need for a little extra personal space. The last thing I want to do is spook her.

"Sorry," I mumble.

**~BPOV~**

God, could I be more of a spaz? I seriously doubt it. Every single time any part of Edward's body touches mine, I jump like a cattle stamped with a hot branding iron. Way to make the guy want to touch you, Bella!

I go back to pretending to listen to the professor. Pretending to not feel that spot on my arm where he just brushed against me. Pretending to not notice every breath Edward takes.

Fuck, Rose is right. I am so gone for this boy.

And every single thing he does makes it so much worse. Does he have to be so nice? Does he have to insist we sit together? Does he have to need my help? Does he have to want to read my essays? I have nowhere to hide. And I don't even want to.

Ugh, the sweet torture of it all.

"Psst, Bella. What are you gonna choose?"

"Huh?"

He laughs at me. "Did you just zone out? Banner spent the last ten minutes explaining the next assignment."

Oh my God. I'm daydreaming in class now. How embarrassing, not to mention dangerous. Everyone around us is standing and shoving notebooks back into backpacks. I am totally out of it. I heard not even one word of what the teacher said.

"What's the assignment?" I stand hastily and pack up my things.

"Seriously? You didn't hear anything? Are you okay?" He's looking into my eyes like a doctor trying to make a diagnosis.

I don't think lovesick is an official disease. "I'm fine." _Get out of my eyes, Edward_. "So, what are we supposed to write about?"

"Which superpower would you want to have and why? 750 words."

"That took ten minutes to explain?" We push through the classroom door into the busy hallway.

"He was saying how you shouldn't pick one of the obvious ones- flying, outrageous speed, super strength- because it would be too hard to be original."

"That's challenging. Do you have any ideas?"

"Not yet. I think I'll putt on it tomorrow morning."

"Putt on it?" I laugh at the unfamiliar expression.

"Think while I putt. Want to join me?"

**~BPOV~**

"I can't; I have class at 9 tomorrow."

"We'll be way done by then. I start at 7:30, right when the course opens. I have the whole place to myself. Come with me."

_Oh, the temptation_.

"What if I ruin your golf karma?"

"You won't. I think a whole lot clearer when I'm with you, Bella."

_That's funny; I can't think AT ALL when I'm with you. _

"I don't have any of those plaid pants. Or spikey shoes. Or even a polo shirt."

He puts his hand on his hip and says, "Wow, it sounds like you really don't want to do this."

_Oh, but I do_. "I just don't want to embarrass myself. Or you."

"Do you have a pair of long shorts or pants that aren't jeans?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a pair of sneakers?"

"Yes." Duh. He knows I've been walking.

"Do you have a shirt that has sleeves, and no writing on it?"

I realize I'm running out of excuses. "Yes, but I don't have a putter. Or balls. And wouldn't I need a glove?"

_There, that ought to do it_.

He smiles at my last attempt to derail him. "I'll knock on your door tomorrow morning at 7:20. Be ready to go."

_Be still my rapidly beating heart. It's a date._

**^EPOV^**

I am leaning on the doorjamb, about to knock, when Bella pulls the door open. She places her index finger over her lips quickly, then points to a sleeping Rosalie.

I realize I've forgotten to warn her about keeping her hair out of her face. I point to my hat and she answers me by pointing to a ponytail holder on her wrist.

I push back and give her room to walk out and pull the door locked behind her. She looks terrified.

"Good morning, Sunshine," I attempt.

"Hi."

"So, you're not a morning person, then?"

"Jeez, you're perky," she says, sounding annoyed. "How many cups of coffee did you drink?"

"None. I don't do caffeine before I play. It makes my hands shake."

"You mean this is just you being you first thing in the morning?"

I smile at her irritation. "Mmm hmm."

"That's troubling," she says, causing me to burst out laughing. She can't help but follow suit.

"Glad to see you smile, Bella. I was a little worried there. You looked like a death row prisoner taking her last walk."

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little nervous."

"You'll feel better after you hit a few. Trust me."

I pull a key from my pocket and open up the bag room door. "Hang on. I'll be right back."

On second thought, she looks so skittish, she might just take off on me. "I changed my mind. You're coming in with me."

"Has anyone ever told you you're kind of bossy?"

"No, I don't tend to get that comment," I chuckle.

I wait for her to start down the aisle between the two sets of cubbies. "Rookies are at the end," I say.

Halfway down, she sees James's bag. I see a shiver run through her body. I'd like to be of comfort to her, but she has this issue with being touched. I come up close behind her but I don't make contact. "Bella, you want to talk about it?"

Without turning around, she questions, "Rose told you about James, didn't she?"

"Yes."

Her head drops forward and I hear a sniffle. God, I hate that I can't put my hand on her shoulder.

"I'm so mortified."

"He's an asshole, Bella. It wasn't your fault."

"He mauled me and I let him do it."

"But you made him stop. You said no."

"I pulled on his pony tail."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Really hard." I hear a slight rumble of laughter bubbling up through the tears.

"That's perfect," I say. "I hate that stupid fucking pony tail. You should see how ridiculous it looks under his golf cap."

Now she's shaking with laughter.

**~BPOV~**

If only I could just lean back a couple inches and rest my head against his strong chest. If only he'd reach out and place a comforting hand on my back. But I can't and he doesn't. He does the next best thing- he makes me laugh.

I wipe the snot and tears away. "Thanks," I say softly, but I know he hears.

He pulls out in front of me without looking back and embarrassing me. "Here we are. #2, Edward Cullen. A big, bold graphic representation that someone else is better than I am. Aren't sports wonderful?"

He doesn't really seem that upset about the situation. I think he's just trying to change the subject. Anyways, I can't press him right now after my emotional display. He's busy pulling out putters and digging out balls.

"Put your hands out."

He fills my hands with six balls, stuffing his own into his pockets.

I chuckle at his bumpy front. "That's a good look for you, Edward." I skirt the truth so carefully with that one. Honestly, he looks totally adorable this morning in his long golf pants and windbreaker. But I especially love him in the Holden cap. It's the same green as his eyes.

O)(O

"Try again, and this time, freeze at the end."

He has absolutely no idea how torturous his undivided attention is. I know he's watching how my body moves, and I could not feel more self-conscious.

I take my stroke and freeze as he's asked. "So, this is where the ball started. Look how far your body moved to the left."

"I see what you're saying but I can't seem to stop swaying."

"It's a lot harder than it looks. Okay, line up again to this ball," he says patiently, dropping another ball into the same spot where I've already mishit at least ten.

He stands about a foot to my left. "Go."

I putt through the ball and end up knocking into him. "Oops."

"Try again," he says, moving the ball back into place. I knock into him yet again. "Oh my God, sorry!"

Edward has this drill all wrong. If he wants to disincentivize me from moving, the penalty should be NOT touching him. Not that I'm doing it on purpose or anything.

"Again." Bump.

**^EPOV^**

She's not getting it. If Bella were any other student, I'd have lined my right hip right up against her left hip and held her in place from the very first mishit ball. It's an easy fix. But I worry about violating her boundaries. It's crystal clear to me that my touch makes her uncomfortable.

As a veteran camp counselor, I've been extensively trained in inappropriate touching, so I'm always careful of how and where I put my hands on a student. It's another teaching challenge, much like teaching a kid with dyslexia to read.

But now, I see that my modified teaching aid hasn't made any impact. If I don't do something more effective, I risk her frustration level rising to a critical level. I'm not sure if it's my pride as an instructor or something else at work, but I really want Bella to enjoy this game, or at least, enjoy some piece of it with me.

With this in mind, I say, "Hold still. I just want to try something." I feel her intake of breath as I press my leg against hers. I'm hoping that the warning, coupled with the two pairs of pants between us, will hold off her discomfort.

And if it does, maybe-at some point down the road- I can desensitize her to my touch and help her work through her larger fear.

For now, I'll settle for a smooth putting stroke.

**~BPOV~**

This time, he moves right next to me, planting his right foot right next to my left. He leans his weight against my left leg and now we're connected from our toes to our hips. Three feet of me pressing against three feet of Edward. I couldn't sway to my left if I tried. But it doesn't stop me from swooning over Dreamy Golf Pro Edward.

"Try now," he commands. I feel the instinct to move, but he holds firm against me. For the first time, I putt without moving my body. The putter head stays along the line, just as he showed me at the very beginning.

"Perfect. Again," he demands. And I swear to God, I will do anything this boy asks as long as he doesn't move from my side.

Three more repetitions and then he says, "I'm moving away. Can you do it by yourself?"

I miss the feel of his body the second he moves. _Pathetic, Bella_. I concentrate on holding myself still. He deserves a student who's giving this her best. I make a good stroke, and the ball rolls exactly where it's supposed to.

He claps for me. "You got it. Now, line up your balls and keep putting till you get them all in from six inches away. I'm going over here to do the same. Remember, every time you miss, you have to start again. Tell me when you make all six."

I set to work and concentrate my full effort on keeping my body still and following the ball to the hole with the putter head. I finally make four in a row but miss the fifth. I pull them out and start again.

I pause to watch Edward. His stroke is so fluid and controlled. He makes them all easily, moves himself back, makes them all again. I can appreciate his apparent ease all the more now that I've tried it myself. Without lifting his head or stopping, he smiles and says, "Keep working, Bella."

O)(O

I never do make all six, but he finally moves me to the next adventure. "Okay, we've gone over aim and stroke. The last piece is distance. Go ahead and hit the ball toward that far hole."

My first two attempts are way too soft. "Not so easy, is it?" It seems to be his theme for the day. "Try to send it past the hole about two feet."

This time, the ball ends up right near the hole. "Good. Now line up all six balls right here and see if you can get each one a little closer to the hole. When you're done, bring the balls back here and do it again."

Edward chooses his own distant hole, and we putt in companionable silence for probably ten minutes. I hear the unmistakable clink of his ball dropping into the hole at least every other time. I keep at it. The last set of six is the best yet, and the very last ball is tracking right on line with the hole and looking good for speed, and CLINK!

I turn proudly to my teacher, who looks up at me for one extremely unsatisfying second before returning his eyes to the green and continuing his own drill.

I say my first words in at least thirty minutes. "That's it?"

Without pausing, he says, "When you make two in a row, I'll get excited."

"That's my goal? Getting you excited?" _Oopsie._

Now he stops putting and looks up with his eyebrows raised. Then he breaks into a gigantic grin and says, "Yep."

_Damn, you look so adorable under that green cap. _Does it count if_ I _get excited?

**^EPOV^**

I drop Bella back at her door at 8:35 as promised. "So, what did you think?"

"I have even more respect for how well you play this game."

"Thanks, but that's not what I meant."

She cocks her head in question. "I'm asking, is it an activity you might find pleasurable? Would you ever want to do it again?"

"Yes, Edward. I would definitely do it again," she smiles just a little. "So, tell me, did you 'putt out' your dilemma about which superpower you want?"

"Not exactly," I tell her truthfully. "It came to me in the bag room."

"Oh yeah? What did you decide?"

"I think I'll surprise you this week." That feels really excellent. I've been leaning heavily on Bella lately, and this time, I feel like I can put together a solid outline without her help. I feel like she deserves that kind of effort from me.

O)(O

"So, my outline's a little messy…"

"Stop stalling and pass it over," she says mercilessly. I hand her my notebook with both pride and trepidation. It's torturous just sitting here, desperately reading and interpreting her facial features for clues about how she feels about what I've written. Especially since my choice was inspired by her experience.

She takes in the first line and her eyes flash to mine over the notebook. "Whoa, Edward. A healer? That is such an unselfish choice."

Her perspective surprises me, because that's not how I felt when I wrote. I tend to absorb other people's pain at an unnatural level, or so I've been counseled. Standing in the bag room with Bella, I was overwhelmed by a desire to erase her pain. But was it for her sake, or my own? I'm not sure I could even separate the two.

I wish I had my putter and a ball so I could tap out my anxiety while she reads. She's lifted the notebook over her eyes, so now I can't see her reactions at all. Until she lowers the notebook and I see tears in her eyes.

I purposefully left Bella out of my essay, but I'm sure she'll see herself in my mother's story.

She opens her mouth to speak, but swallows whatever it is she was going to say and pulls her top lip between her teeth. I still have no idea if she hates it.

"Is it too personal?"

She shakes her head no.

"You're killing me here, Bella. You hate it, don't you?" She probably doesn't realize that this is the first bit of challenging work I've done on my own, and I'm really anxious for feedback. Positive feedback would be nice, but at this point, I'll take anything.

**~BPOV~**

"It's really powerful, Edward. It's excellent," I manage to choke out.

A relieved smile breaks across his lips. "It is?"

I lean in closer because this conversation really doesn't belong in the classroom. "Edward, I'm so sorry about what happened to your mom. There were _really_ people standing by and watching who didn't do a thing to help while she was attacked?"

He nods at the painful memory, and I try to picture the little boy inside him who came home from third grade one day to find his mother beat up and bruised.

"I love your ideas about the three types of healing. Anybody could fantasize about healing physical pain and disease, but you've gone a step beyond, in addressing emotional and even spiritual healing. Your notes about watching your mother's faith and optimism get stripped away from her, and how hard she had to fight through therapy to get those back, are going to make the paper so poignant."

There's laughter around the room, as the other papers are largely about fanciful comic book types of super powers, but Edward is dead serious. I can see that he's given this subject the level of thought that a victimized child would feel about beating up the bully responsible. But Edward's response is so pure and kind. He's about healing the harmed, not punishing the perpetrator.

"I also admire the way you deal with low self-esteem and how people would constantly have to keep coming back for repeat treatments. It's a really thoughtful outline, Edward."

"So, constructive criticism?" he asks cautiously.

"I guess I'm not sure where your conclusion is heading. It might be interesting to imagine what high school might look like without insecurity, or how a marriage could be sure to succeed if wounds were healed. You'd certainly have a long line outside your door."

"Thanks, Bella," he says, putting his hand out to take his notebook from me.

"Edward, earlier you mentioned you were inspired in the bag room. How so?"

**^EPOV^**

Damn her memory, and damn me for saying it in the first place. I choose my words carefully, tempering Honest Ed with the guy who desperately doesn't want to upset his friend.

I meet her eyes like a man and give it to her honestly, "You looked like you were really hurting, and I wanted to help."

"You did, Edward."

_Yeah?_

"When I passed by the driving range the first time, I saw you and James talking. I didn't know you then, I just recognized you from the giraffe thing in class."

_God, she thought I was friends with the slimeball_.

"I was so worried that he was trash talking me to you. I was pretty nervous when Banner put us together. I thought for sure you'd take his side."

She looks at me with such pain in her eyes, again I'm tempted to reach out to her. But I can't. Besides, I've been keeping my own dirty secret about that night.

"The more I've gotten to know you, the more I've wanted to believe that you would never be like him."

The guilt is beating at my gut from the inside out.

"Bella, there's something I need to tell you." I look furtively around the classroom, making sure the professor isn't about to sneak up on us. Bad enough I'm doing this here, I really don't need an audience.

"Okay," she says, trusting as ever.

"I was there the night of that frat party."

"What?"

Fuck, there is no escaping this. We are doing it. Right here.

"I saw James drag you into the corner with him. To the couch. Then I saw Rosalie try to save you."

"Ugh," she says, throwing her head down onto the desk on top of crossed arms. "Can a person die from humiliation?"

"I should've done something. I know better than to stand by and watch."

She pops up from the desk in surprise. "Wait, what?"

"Bella, I'm so sorry I didn't do anything to stop him from attacking you."

"Edward, no. No, no, no. You are not carrying this around with you. _I _did that. Well, I mean, James is certainly to blame as well. But definitely not you."

"Bella, how can you say that after what you just read?"

"Hey, come on. I did not get beat up and mugged. I was an eager, albeit drunk off my ass, participant. And I stopped him before it was too late."

"Thank God for that. And by the way, you should have kneed him in the nuts. You would've saved the next girl the trouble!"

She laughs and says, "Are you seriously quoting Carrie Underwood right now?"

"No, Bella. I don't do Country."

She gives me a slight eye roll, "Besides, if I'd have kneed him in the nuts, I would've saved the next _five_ girls the trouble! Did you know my father is the Chief of Police for the City of Boston? I am well-versed in self-defense."

"Good to know," I chuckle. I'm grateful for her humor, just as I'm grateful to hear that she doesn't blame me. But still, I have to live with the fact that I took the coward's way out that night.

Realization crosses her face. "So, Edward, is that why you had that weird look of pain on your face when I was assigned to be your partner?"

I nod again.

"Oh, thank God," she says.

"What?" I am truly confused. This makes her happy?

"I thought it was because I'm fat."

"What? No. No, Bella. Jesus. That was called guilt."

"Whew! I'm really glad we just cleared the air. Anything else you want to tell me?"

"No," I say, enormously relieved. "Why, is there something you're keeping from me?"

**~BPOV~**

Other than the fact that I have a gigantic crush all over you, Edward Cullen? Nope.

"Here, your turn." I hand him my outline. He grins broadly as he reads through the beginning. He relaxes back into his chair and cups his chin with one hand while his eyes dart back and forth across and down the page.

If I'd really considered what it would feel like to sit here while he read this, I might have selected a different super power. And the idea of discussing it when he's done is making my stomach flop around like a freshly caught flounder on the deck of a fishing boat.

He finally finishes and sets the paper down, giving me his full-on attention. His green eyes are dancing when he says, "I love this. Your idea is so creative, Bella. It's sort of like Cupid meets Superman."

I snort a little at his metaphor. "So, you don't think it's silly?"

"No, Bella. I don't think falling in love is a silly concept."

_Good to know._

"In fact, I can appreciate your argument that this would lead to fewer divorces, and all the waste and human misery that goes along with that statistic. Court time, lawyers, messed up kids, therapy for everyone…"

"But that's where Super Healer Man comes on the scene to blot out all the pain."

"Exactly. Your super powers could put me out of a job! So, back to your idea, I have some questions."

_Shoot_. "Shoot."

"First of all, how would you decide who to smite with your magic powder?"

I smile, because my astute partner has once again put his finger on the exact point. "Well, that's the hardest part. Should it be a pair of people who I think would be a really good long-term match, but maybe aren't feeling romantic toward each other? Or maybe one person has a crush but that person likes someone else. So where do I light the spark?"

"Hmmm. It's definitely a difficult dilemma. I guess it comes down to what you believe is more important in a relationship- compatibility or chemistry."

"You mean, we don't get to have both?"

"Don't ask me," he laughs. "I certainly haven't found the total package yet."

I pry shamelessly. "So, nobody special in your life?"

"No. And for the first time, I'm feeling really left out, with both Emmett and Jasper finding their soul mates in the first week of school."

"So would your person also have to be a great golfer?"

He shrugs. "I suppose that's part of compatibility, but I wouldn't say she'd have to be a great golfer. More that she'd have to have a great attitude toward the game, whether it's playing or watching. I don't think I could ever be with someone who would resent me for the time I spend working on my game. I'd want someone who'd enjoy spending that time with me, or at least appreciated my effort."

"You're starting to make me think I should have people fill out an order form with special requests."

"Kind of like match dot com on supernatural crack?" he suggests.

His observation makes me smile. "What else do I need to think about?"

"Okay. Is it a life-long spell? I mean, what if you meet someone when you're five years old and you are positive she's the one for you. So you go ahead and…apply or whatever. And Super Love comes along and waves her magic wand and all is hunky dory. But then you get to college and you meet someone else, and you're in a different place in your life, and you wonder, could _she_ have been the right one?"

"Are you saying there's more than one person out there for each of us?"

"I have to believe there is. I mean, don't you think a lot of it is just dumb luck? Where you go to college, what classes you pick-"

"Who the teacher assigns to you ," I blurt. _Shit_.

"Exactly. Look at Angela and Ben over there." I already know what I'll see before I turn my head. The two of them are inseparable and have been since the first week of classes. Their heads are pressed together in intimate conversation. "What if Ben would have been assigned to you? Would that be you right now?"

**^EPOV^**

"I doubt it," she says. "I think the two of them would've found each other in a blinding sandstorm from opposite sides of the desert.

"You're probably right," I smile at her imagery. "I guess that's the chemistry part of the equation at work."

At the same time, I have to wonder if Bella and I would've met and become friends if not for Professor Banner's pairing. Considering my guilt by association with James, I'd guess not.

"You know, Bella, thinking about all these questions, I think your super power is a hell of a lot more difficult than mine."

"Nobody ever said love was easy, Edward."

"I don't know. My parents make it look easy. I mean, sure, they've ridden along some bumpy roads together, but that's just the thing. They've always stuck together and there was never a question about their devotion to each other. That's what I want."

"That's what we all want."

O)(O

I'm waiting in the hall outside her door when she emerges at 7:20, ready for action. "Morning," I greet her.

She's sleepy like on Tuesday but not nearly as grumpy. I think it was her anxiety over not knowing what to expect the first time. I shove my hands deep inside my pockets and walk next to her wordlessly. She's here, and that says enough.

"Remember this part?" I ask, lining up her six balls six inches from the hole.

"Mmm hmm. Gotta get them all in before I move back."

"Right. Let's see that stroke again."

She sways left, as I suspected she might. We all tend toward certain body motions, no matter how hard we fight them. I only let her do it wrong once before I put my body against hers. She doesn't flinch, and I'm pleased. The next three balls roll into the hole, and I remove myself from her side. She finishes the sequence and gets all six balls in!

"Great start, Bella," I praise her. "You get to move back now."

She rolls the first two in, but the third skirts away to the right. "Remember to follow the putter head all the way through. Start again from six inches."

Without complaint, she lines up her balls in their original spots and starts over.

**~BPOV~**

I can't believe Edward's invited me to putt with him again. I hardly mind the early hour or the lack of coffee. I get to be alone with Edward in the crisp quietude of the empty golf course. I'm beyond thrilled that he's sharing this cherished activity with me. My goal today is to finish off the second round and get to eighteen inches. Hell, I want to see Edward excited!

He's putting his own balls now and paying little attention to me, but every so often, out of my peripheral vision, I see him peeking to check on my progress. And every time he does, I get a little rush.

Moment of truth. I've just sunk my fifth ball at twelve inches. I keep my eyes down even though I suspect he's observing me vigilantly. I give it my very best stroke and watch with great satisfaction as the ball drops into the hole.

Edward leans his putter along his leg and claps for me. I turn my proud face to his and see that his facial features match my own. "So, teacher, does this mean I got you excited?"

"Definitely."

_Unggghhh. Right back at ya!_

"So what happens if I make the next six?"

"You might get to see my happy dance."

There's a goal if ever I heard one. "Oh, I have GOT to see that!"

He crosses one ankle over the other and watches with amusement while I line up the balls at eighteen inches. The first putt is on line, but stops just short of the hole. He shakes his head. "Oh, _so_ close."

Calmly, patiently, I start again.

O)(O

**From:** Edward Cullen  
><strong>To: <strong>Bella Swan**  
><strong>Subject:<strong> **Super Healer**  
><strong>Sent:<strong> **Thursday, 9/29/11 8:25 PM

**Attachment**: Super Healer . docx

_B- Would you mind proofing?_

_E_

****From:** **Bella Swan**  
>To:<strong> Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Super Healer  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/29/11 8:28 PM

**Attachment**: Love on Crack . docx

_E- Not at all. Would you? And by the way, thanks for the title idea!  
>B<em>

****From:**** Edward Cullen**  
>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Super Healer  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/29/11 8:46 PM

_Bella, I see you resolved your dilemma about which sparks get ignited first._

_Isn't it rather sexist for the super hero to always take the girl's side?_

_E_

****From:** **Bella Swan**  
>To:<strong> Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Super Healer  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/29/11 8:50 PM

_E-_

_Even super heroes can have biases. _

****From:** **Edward Cullen**  
>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Super Healer  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/29/11 8:51 PM

_B, What if two girls like the same boy? –E_

****From:** **Bella Swan**  
>To:<strong> Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Super Healer  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/29/11 8:52 PM

_I will choose the more worthy. And before you ask, here's how. I will look into both hearts with my superhero vision and find out which girl has the boy's best interests at heart. Which one wants him for who he is and who he has the potential to become? Which girl really cares what he has to say? Which one roots for his success for no other reason than it makes him truly happy?_

****From:**** Edward Cullen**  
>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Super Healer  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/29/11 8:55 PM

_God, you are a hopeless romantic. Put all that great stuff in the paper._

_Now what about mine?_

****From:** **Bella Swan**  
>To:<strong> Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Super Healer  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 9/29/11 8:56 PM

_E- Sign me up for some of that healing. I corrected two typos but otherwise, it's perfect. -B_

Just like you.

**^EPOV^**

"No, Mom. Bree is not my girlfriend," I growl in a low voice so Bree doesn't hear.

"So, are you playing the field then?"

Britney passes quickly and uneventfully through my head. "Not exactly."

"Come on, Esme, give the kid a break. He's only been here a month," Dad says helpfully from her other side.

Mom shakes her head. "I don't understand it. The girls must be throwing themselves at your feet." She ruffles her hand through my hair.

I hear Jasper attempt to stifle a loud guffaw on the other side of me. I jab him in the side with my elbow and narrow my eyes threateningly.

"Sorry," Jas mumbles unrepentantly. "So, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, have you met Emmett's girlfriend Rosalie yet?"

Well, thank Christ, my roommate is good for _something_, it seems.

"I think Emmett mentioned we're all getting together after the game."

"Well, you don't have to wait that long. She's right over there! See the blonde wearing Emmett's number?" Jas points out Rosalie, sitting three rows ahead of us on the bleachers, right behind the bench.

"Oh, Carlisle, look. She's adorable!" Mom gushes.

Rose is wearing a Cullen jersey, which thankfully she hasn't cut short. Emmett must have prepped her that our conservative parents might not appreciate her normal game-day attire. Bella is sitting beside her, wearing jeans and a Holden tee shirt. I'm used to seeing her much more covered up. It's hard to tell from this angle, but Bella looks thinner, and I don't recognize those pants. Maybe she's gone shopping for a smaller size. Her ponytail pokes out the back of her Holden Hawks cap. I'm pleased to see that she's getting into the team spirit.

"And, Edward, isn't that your friend Bella sitting next to her?"

I turn to give Jas a questioning look. _What are you playing at, my friend?_

Mom's ears have already perked up. She looks at me expectantly.

"Bella's my writing partner for composition class," I explain.

"Oh," Mom says. "Is she joining us later?"

"I'm not sure if Emmett asked her," I say noncommittally.

"Why don't you text her?" Jas suggests.

Alice peeks over his side. "Yes, I need to meet this girl already!"

I hope this won't be too much Cullen-ness for Bella. My parents have a way of smothering people. I pull out my phone warily.

_Bella, will you come out with us after the game? Alice really wants to meet you. -E_

I watch as she pulls the vibrating phone out of her back pocket. As she taps out her response, I can see that the invitation has pleased her.

**~BPOV~**

_E- Sure. I guess we're meeting Emmett outside the locker room after the game? Your folks are here, too, right? B_

_Yep. By the way, I like your new hat! _

The sneak! He's been watching me! Good thing I didn't jump up and down at his invitation (at least outwardly). I turn my head, slowly surveying the crowd, looking for a familiar head of copper hair and the sly grin that I expect he's wearing right now. I'm mortified to find him only three rows back with a sheepish smile on his face. He smiles bigger and waves. I roll my eyes in answer.

I take in the handsome older couple next to him, recognizing at once the family resemblance. Edward looks like his mom but has his father's coloring. Emmett is the exact opposite. It's almost comical. And on his other side, I recognize Jasper, and I'm guessing the girl next to him is Alice. Edward is pointing me out to her now and she's waving madly as if we've been best friends our whole lives. I return her greeting, but fail to match her enthusiasm. Next to Alice is another girl who seems less interested in meeting me. Her eyes are locked onto Edward. Ah, you must be Bree.

_Pretty sneaky, Cullen. –B_

_B-Don't be mad. At least I warned you before you started cheering like your roommate! –E_

_Thanks, I guess. -B_

"Bella, are you even watching the game? You are hopeless!" Rosalie snipes.

I make a show of sliding my phone back into my pocket and he doesn't text me again.

O)(O

Naturally, the Cullens want to sit next to their sons at dinner, and Rose takes Emmett's other side. That leaves Edward's right side free, and I'm so dying to jump in there, but as usual I hesitate, not wanting to appear pushy. But Bree doesn't. She rushes to Edward's side and pulls the chair out. Rose gives me a disappointed look when I move to sit next to her.

"Actually, Bella, would you mind sitting over here?"

I cannot believe my ears. Did that just come out of Edward's mouth?

"Sorry, Bree, but Bella and I have to talk about a paper that's due Monday."

I stifle my smile. Bree gets up with a sour look on her face, which she unfortunately directs toward me.

Edward actually pulls the chair out for me and as he's pushing me in, he leans down and whispers in my ear, "Thanks for saving me."

Alice takes my other side and eagerly starts firing questions at me. Jasper and Bree take the two remaining seats.

"So, Bella," Mrs. Cullen says, "Edward tells us how helpful you've been with his writing."

Poor Edward looks mortified, as if we're having his Special Ed conference at the dinner table.

"Actually, it's mutual," I answer.

"Pshhh," Emmett mutters under his breath.

"Emmett!" their father chides.

"No offense, Eddie, but Bella's an English major. What help could you be giving her?"

I'm a little hesitant to enter their family quarrel, but I hate the way Edward is being portrayed. And he's doing nothing to defend himself.

"Actually," I start out quietly, "Edward's been enormously helpful to me."

Edward shakes his head and starts, "Bella, you don't have to-"

"No, Edward. It's true, and you know it." This I say right to him, but the rest, I direct at his doubtful family members. "Edward's very direct in his writing. And in his critique of my work."

His mother smiles gratefully. "I can definitely appreciate what you're saying, Bella. Edward's always been extremely astute in his observations about other people."

"So, Edward, what time is your match tomorrow?" his father asks.

"Jasper and I have a 9:00 tee time."

"I assume you're coming, Bella?" his mother asks pointedly.

I begin to shake my head no, but Edward cuts in. "Bella, say you'll come."

"Sure." As if I'd say no to this boy.

Alice squeals and squeezes the bejeebus out of my right hand. "We're going to have so much fun, Bella!"

O)(O

Edward's match is so much more than a four-hour excuse to stare at his beauty and grace, though that would have sufficed. As his parents, Alice, and I trudge along with the crowd, he and Jasper explain their strategy, celebrate their successes, and admit their failures. And when he's busy actually playing, Esme (Edward's parents have asked me to call them by their first names) fills me in on little tidbits of Edward's childhood. Endearing stories about Edward as a little boy, friendships, golf tales, even a past girlfriend or two.

Occasionally, I catch Edward watching the two of us when another player is hitting. I can tell he's a bit anxious about what secrets she's revealing. I smile and wave and he just shakes his head and smiles nervously. As they putt out on sixteen, Edward wins his match. His parents cheer and Alice squeals. Jasper doesn't win his until the last hole, when he chips in for birdie. Hands are shaken, scores are posted. Edward moves more quickly than seems humanly possible to find us.

"Congratulations, son!" His parents take him in a group embrace. "You too, Jasper!" He is not exempt from their parental attention.

Edward rushes to my side and pulls me by my elbow away from the group, in a rare physical display. "Okay, give. What's my mom been telling you for eighteen holes?"

**^EPOV^**

It's amazing I could hold my focus to win the match, I'm so preoccupied with what my mother might be sharing with Bella. There are so many embarrassing aspects to growing up, a mother could really do some serious damage to her son's college reputation. Not that I don't trust my mom, just…well, what has she told Bella?

"Hey, Edward. Congrats!" she says, more to stall than to actually praise me.

"Thanks," I mumble. "So?"

She laughs lightheartedly. "Oh Edward. Just sweet stories about your childhood. You know, bed wetting, sleep walking…"

Bed wetting? I don't remember that. I glare at my mother. Bella bursts out in laughter. "I'm kidding, Edward. Hmmm, now I kind of have to wonder what you're hiding!"

"Nothing interesting, believe me," I say to throw her off the scent.

"Oh, so it wasn't interesting when you told Sally O'Donoghue that she was even prettier than your Mom?"

_Oh, shoot me now. _

"She didn't!"

Bella smiles. "She did. I think my favorite part was hearing about Cogy, your imaginary beagle."

"My own mother! I can't believe she threw me under the bus," I wail.

"Oh Edward. They're so proud of you. Enjoy it."

"Wonderful," I cringe.

"Aren't you glad I came?"

"Honestly, I am," I answer unequivocally. Despite my mother's confessional. "Would you come again on Thursday? I have an important match."

"Sure, Edward," she smiles.

"You know, you just walked five miles."

"Really?"

"Yeah, golf is actually great exercise if you walk instead of taking a cart."

"Another bonus," I think I hear her mutter under her breath as we rejoin our group.

O)(O

"We're so proud of you, Edward. You're doing great here. Holden was the perfect choice."

"Thanks."

"Edward, you've washed your sheets, right?"

"Esme-" Dad warns.

"A mother needs to know, Carlisle."

"Yes, Mom," I lie. It's better this way. I'll wash them later today, I promise myself. I hate lying to Mom.

"Listen, honey, I really like your friend Bella. She's good for you."

"I know, Mom."

"And I can tell you're good for her, too."

"Okay, Mom." They must've had _some_ talk yesterday.


	6. Why Did I Pair You?

**10/3/2011**

**~BPOV~**

"How was last night with your parents?"

"It was fine. I think my Mom has a little crush on you."

"She's a sweetheart," I laugh. "Tell her if she ever wants a daughter, I'm up for adoption."

Though once I consider it, I realize that being Edward's sister would not really fit in with my long range plans.

Professor Banner begins reading, "Telekinesis, mind control, time travel, healing, inducing romance, rewriting the past, greening the planet, changing the weather…to name a few. Very creative. Let's take a look at the lowlights first…"

O)(O

"This week's assignment is slightly different than before. I need you and your partner to NOT discuss your ideas until Wednesday in class. Agreed?"

I look at Edward with a bit of disappointment. That's two weeks in a row he'll do his outline without me. He shrugs.

"In fact, I'm not even going to explain the assignment this time. I'll hand it to you on the way out. See you Wednesday."

We each take our sheet and move through the doorway. "So, Bella," he says, "you think you're ready to move up to chipping?"

"What's that?"

He chuckles. "It's one level up from putting. Your next lesson."

"Sure, I'm game. Is it hard?"

"Only at first. Then it gets a lot worse. Pick you up at the usual time?"

**^EPOV^**

I find a free patch of grass on Windsor Walk and plop myself down. Pulling out the assignment entitled 'Why Did I Pair You?' I learn that I need to write one paragraph about what Bella has taught me, one paragraph about what I've taught her, and a conclusion as to why he paired us. No wonder he didn't want us to speak about it first.

I pull out a pen and scribble some notes. 'B taught me: organization, structure, grammar, word choice, conclusion, clarity. I taught Bella:'

What was it she'd said to my parents? 'I taught Bella: directness, honesty.'

Why did Professor Banner pair us? 'We bring out the best in each other.'

I fold the makeshift outline, satisfied, into my bag. I have a major test on Friday in Psych so the more I can get off my plate, the better. Pre-calc is a problem set that I can work on tomorrow night. Checking my syllabus, I see that I have two pieces to listen to for Jazz, which I've already downloaded to my iPod. I pop my earphones in, press play, and lean back into the grass to do my homework.

O)(O

"So chipping is similar to putting, just let the club lift up a little. Here, take this," I say, handing her my pitching wedge. "I want you to hit this ball to flag number four over there."

I drop the ball into the thick grass behind the green. She naturally takes the perfect stroke because she's never been taught any bad habits. I smile and praise her, "That was actually perfect, Bella. Now, we're moving a little farther away."

We keep that up until she's chipping the ball forty yards. Now, for the ever-elusive hip turn. First, I go with the least invasive method- Standing in front of her, I pull the club head around as quickly as I can, causing her to turn. It's imperfect though. I take a chance, because it seems she's tolerating my touch better these days.

**~BPOV~**

"Bella, this is much easier if I can actually turn your hips for you. I'm just going to grab onto your belt loops now."

Oh, holy hell. He's standing behind me and his hands are on my hips. And he turns me to the right, and now I can feel his fingers curling around my waist. Then he swings me quickly around to my left.

"Feel the swivel in your hips?"

_Shit. Now he wants me to speak? _ "Mmm hmm," I hum.

"Let's do it again," he says, repeating the motion. "Okay, now do it with the club in your hand."

He pulls his body closer to mine so I don't hit him with the club. Fair enough, I suppose.

"It's easier to feel the motion if you close your eyes. Let's try it a few times like that." I close my eyes, he spins me back and around.

He chuckles and I feel his whole body rumble behind me. "Bella, try to loosen up. It's supposed to feel natural." Oh my God. His breath is tickling at my ear.

"You've got your elbows locked. Here," he says helpfully, taking one elbow in each hand and shaking gently.

"And your hands have the club in a death grip." _Oh no, Edward, don't put your hands on my-_ "Relax."

_-HANDS!_

It's not so much that his large, manly hands are folded over mine on the club, coaxing them to loosen. Though that would be more than enough to send me into a swoon. No. The worst/best part is that he's pressed close, and his arms are resting just outside mine, his bare arms ever so gently, tantalizingly brushing against my skin. He doesn't even know he's doing it. And it may be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Would he mind very much if I lay my head back against his shoulder and nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck?

Good Lord, if this boy had any idea what was going through my head right now, he wouldn't dare stand so close to me.

O)(O

"How's Psych been going?" I ask on the way back.

"I have an exam on Friday," he answers, a pinched look in his face.

"Do you want me to help you study?" _Please say yes._

"Bella, you've already done so much…" _That sounds like a yes_.

"Is Thursday after your match too late? You'll also have our paper due Friday. What else do you have this week?"

"Just a problem set for Pre-Calc that I'm doing tonight. Why don't I get my essay out of the way tomorrow night, then we can tackle Psych on Thursday. If you really-"

"Edward, I do. Really."

He knows better than to fight with me.

"Thanks, Bella. I have no idea how I'd be making it through without you."

Ditto.

**^EPOV^**

"So, here's the deal, guys. I do not want your papers to be mirror images of each other. It's okay if what Angela feels Ben has taught her is not the same as what Ben reports. In fact, you may learn yet more from each other this morning that you should feel free to incorporate, but please don't make this about writing the same paper. Okay, discuss."

My outline is pretty bare bones, basically what I scribbled after class on Monday.

"Why don't we just trade and review at the same time?" she suggests.

Now that we've been seeing each other practically every morning, either in class or at the course, I feel extremely comfortable with Bella. But at the same time, it makes me want to try that much harder for her. My lackluster attempt embarrasses me as I pass her my notebook.

I feel even worse when I see the effort Bella's already put into the assignment.

_What Edward has taught me: honesty, integrity of putting forth one's best effort, courage, candor, strength of ideas._

_What I've taught Edward: structure, articulation, he's a great writer (hopefully)_

_Why we were paired: I can give Edward the organization and grammatical pieces he needs to succeed and he can teach me to be bolder with my content._

When I lift my eyes from her paper, she's already looking at me. I swallow over the small lump that's formed in my throat. "I don't really feel like I deserve these compliments," I tell her. "Especially after my pathetic outline."

"You underestimate yourself, Edward. Not on the golf course, but certainly anything academic." I notice she's blushing a bit.

"Thanks, Bella."

"I'm just being honest, partner."

**~BPOV~**

I help Edward flesh out his outline with examples and details before we leave class. He's promised to have his paper done before 5 so he can organize his Psych notes and get a good night's rest before his match.

"You'll putt with me in the morning, right?" he asks hopefully.

"You sure you really want to worry about me?" I don't want him to feel obligated just because this has become our pattern. I understand this match means a lot to him.

"I'm not _worried_ about you. I enjoy your company. You have a quiet soul."

He's certainly taken me by surprise with that comment. "What? Is that a crack about women being seen but not heard?"

He smiles. "No. I didn't mean it that way at all."

"Phew. Because that was a little Stepford Wives for me."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. What's a quiet soul?"

"You seem content to repeat the drills I've shown you. And I have never seen you get frustrated, even when you're trying something brand new. I find it very peaceful to be with you."

A warmth fills up the space inside my chest, though ironically, what he's described is probably the exact opposite of the effect he has on me. Edward's presence makes me feel agitated, hyper vigilant of every touch, look, and word. And I crave the feeling more with each passing day.

O)(O

****From:**** Edward Cullen**  
>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Why Did He Pair Us?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Wednesday, 10/5/11 4:33 PM

**Attachment**: Why Bella. docx

_B-_

_As promised, before 5!_

_E_

****From:** **Bella Swan**  
>To:<strong> Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Why Did He Pair Us?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Wednesday, 10/5/11 4:45 PM

_Edward, will you be upset if I suggest you add more details? For example, your proof for teaching me to be more honest might be pressing me to reveal why my mom's music was so dear to me. Or specifics about how I helped you write a solid conclusion for your first paper._

_By the way, did I tell you I love your conclusion?_

_B_

_PS- See you at the buttcrack of dawn _

Hopefully that takes a bit of the sting out of the message that this paper really needs more work. I really hate to be the one to put it on him, but deep down, I think he already knew that this wasn't his best effort. If there's one thing I've learned about him, he always wants to do his best, but sometimes he thinks it's beyond his grasp. I'm hoping to teach him otherwise.

**To:** Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Why Did He Pair Us?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Wednesday, 10/5/11 4:47 PM

_Thanks, I guess?_

_E_

O)(O

****From:** **Edward Cullen**  
>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Why Did He Pair Us?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Wednesday, 10/5/11 5:40 PM

**Attachment**: Why Bella . docx

_What do you think now?_

Cripes, he's been working for almost an hour! Should I have kept my ideas to myself? I read his paper quickly and offer some much-deserved praise.

****From:** **Bella Swan**  
>To:<strong> Edward Cullen  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Why Did He Pair Us?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Wednesday, 10/5/11 5:45 PM

_That looks like an 'A' paper to me!_

_I hope it wasn't too painful for you!_

_(Sorry if it was…)_

_b_

****From:**** Edward Cullen**  
>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Why Did He Pair Us?  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Wednesday, 10/5/11 5:46 PM

_That's just you bringing out the best in me again._

_See you in the morning!_

_And thanks. Really._

_E_

**^EPOV^**

"It's all going to come down to putting today. Watch and see. That's why Jas is number one. He has an uncanny natural talent for it and nerves of steel."

"Hmm. Sounds like maybe I should be taking my putting lessons from him," she teases.

"You wound me, Bella," I say, clutching my heart in mock horror.

"So, Edward, last week in the bag room, when you made that comment about being number two…?"

She looks at me for recognition. Yeah, I remember saying it. "Mmm hmmm?"

"Is that something that bothers you?"

I feel my right hand make its habitual journey to the back of my neck, the place it always lands when I'm pondering difficult questions. I look to the clouds for answers that don't necessarily come.

"Oh, shit, Edward, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

A sigh escapes before I can reassure her. "It's fine. I don't mind that you asked. It's just kind of one of those Big Questions of my life. Y'know?"

We've reached the practice green now, but Bella's not dropping her balls down. She's giving me her full-on attention, big brown eyes boring into mine, making space for me to be myself. There's no judgment, just support.

And as many girls as I've been with in high school and even this first month of college, none of them has ever talked to me the way Bella does. Like a friend who's not afraid to push a little bit at the tender spots. Surprisingly, I find a deep desire to reveal myself to her, to say things I've never admitted out loud to anyone.

"I'd say I'm _used_ to being number two. Emmett's not an easy act to follow. Believe it or not, he's got the brains to match the brawn, and he happens to be a great big brother. It's pretty damn hard to resent the guy, and I guess that's why I never have.

"Even being number two to Jasper doesn't really bother me all that much because of who he is." I have to shake my head and chuckle as I reflect on how Jasper asked me for help with his swing. "You know, as proficient as he is with his long shot accuracy and his incredible short game, he asked me to help him hit the ball longer? He never stops working to turn his weaknesses into strengths."

When I pause for a second, she interjects, "Isn't that what you're doing out here with your putting? And your rewrites?"

"Sure, I'm trying to improve, but I don't really feel that drive to be the best at anything. Maybe deep down, I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll never be number one, so I've convinced myself over the years that 'good enough' is fine."

She looks like she's literally biting back something she's afraid to say.

**~BPOV~**

I've got the corner of my mouth trapped between my teeth, literally biting back my thoughts from spilling out.

"You know, you can go ahead and say it out loud," he encourages.

I so want to be that quiet soul he needs today. But the can of worms has been opened and the night crawlers are oozing out all over the place now.

"I don't want to mess with your head on such an important day."

He puts his hand on his hip and smiles a little. "Too late. Now I _know_ there's something you're not telling me and it'll just drive me nuts until you do."

I have to laugh. "Okay. I was thinking about your conclusion… you know?" Ugh, please don't make me say it.

He smiles, "Mmm hmm." _Thank you, Edward._

"So, I've witnessed your pride when you do your best, and it's a pretty powerful sight." Intoxicating, overwhelming, irresistible, in fact.

"And?" he prompts.

"I don't think you're fooling anybody, including yourself, into thinking that you don't want more of that. Or that you don't recognize, deep down, that you can achieve it."

"Fffshhhooo!" He wiggles his head quickly side to side, like a really cute dog after a bath. Or, come to think of it, like somebody just slapped him across the face. Uh oh.

"Too harsh for game day?" I worry out loud.

**^EPOV^**

I steal Emmett's response to Jasper's flattery. "Bella, your confidence in me puts my own mother to shame."

She smiles brightly, relieved that I'm not upset with her. "I'm so glad you heard it that way, Edward. Because that is exactly how I meant it."

"I hear you, Bella." Loud and clear. "Let's putt."

If I wasn't sure before, I know it now. Bella is a rare gift.

O)(O

Like I said, it all comes down to putting today. And so far, my opponent is the better putter. I'm just a little tentative on my follow through today, and it's cost me dearly. After nine holes, I'm down three. If I don't get my focus back soon, the match will slip through my fingers.

Jasper senses my frustration and reminds me between shots to stay smooth and confident, not easy when you're losing. I hear Bella's words replaying in my head. She's right; I do want to win this match. Furthermore, I _should_ win this match. She's been following along the sidelines but keeping her distance, but at the tenth hole, I take the chance to seek her out.

"Hey," I tell her tightly.

"Hey, back," she smiles.

"You having fun with Alice?"

"Sure, but that's not really the point."

No, of course not. Unlike so many of the other spectators who come purely for their own entertainment, including the group of rabid fangirls who seem to be following Jas and me during all our home matches now, Bella has actually come to support me.

"My putting is killing me today," I admit regretfully.

"Self-fulfilling prophecy. You do realize, that's not even close to what you looked like this morning when you were practicing."

"Listen to you, a few lessons and now you're the pro," I say lightly.

"I happen to have an excellent teacher," she lobs back.

"All right, Doc, what's your diagnosis?"

"The patient is trying too hard to heal himself. Why don't you just pretend you're teaching me that fluid stroke? Just you and me on the practice green? Smooth take-back, putter head to the hole, don't lift your head till-"

"You hear the ball hit the bottom of the hole."

"Right," she smiles brilliantly.

Fortified for the back nine, I blow out a deep breath, hopefully clearing away all those negative thoughts that plagued me earlier. "Thanks, Doc," I tell her.

"Make me proud, partner."

**~BPOV~**

I pull my ring finger over the other two for extra luck. My knuckles are white, my fingers are so tightly crossed as Edward addresses his putt on ten. I so desperately want to be the solution to his troubles.

His stroke is smooth and sure. He sinks his eight-foot birdie putt to win the hole, and a sudden, rare, dazzling Edward smile takes over his face. He reaches down to retrieve his ball from the hole, and holds it up in his left hand in quiet salute directed right at me. The girls on the sidelines go crazy, jumping and cheering, but I know the gesture was for me. I give him a thumbs-up and he winks at me under the cover of his green cap.

_I am mush._

O)(O

The boys are elated, coming off the eighteenth green, having shaken their opponents' hands and half-guy-hugged each other in subtle celebration. Edward steps out from behind Jasper's shoulder, moves quickly to stand in front of me, but then looks like he doesn't know quite what to say or do. As usual, his roommate does his talking for him.

"You realize what this means, Bella?" Jasper enlightens me from behind Edward. "You can never not come to one of Edward's matches."

Edward blushes shyly and dips his shoulder to allow his bag to slide down to the ground. I'm so holding myself back right now. For the last two holes, I've been fantasizing about nothing but meeting a victorious Edward right here. Edward pulling me exuberantly into his arms, sharing his jubilation and his success with me.

He takes one step forward, toes practically meeting toes. "Bella, I-"

"Oooh, Edward! Can we get your autograph? You were so amazing! Could you sign your ball for me? Come have a drink with us!"

A giggling gaggle of fangirls push their way in between us, literally knocking me out of the way. I catch Edward throwing me an apologetic glance before allowing their enthusiasm to consume him. I step back further as Edward patiently takes each marker and signs whatever it is they've asked him to sign. Balls, programs, shirts, hats. They're shameless.

I am pulled away from the fiasco by a firm arm on my elbow. "Bella, ignore them," Alice urges. "Come on, the guys are going to meet us at The Pizza Pie when they're done…ugh, let's get out of here."

It was a stupid fantasy anyways. Girls like me don't get arms like Edward's wrapped around us.

O)(O

"What toppings do you like on your pizza?"

"I'm just having salad," I grimace, ready for the usual onslaught of questions.

"Okay," Alice says easily. "By the way, you look fantastic. How much weight have you lost already?"

"About 18 pounds."

"Wow, Bella, that's amazing. You must feel like a new person!" she says gaily.

Truth is, I don't. I feel like the same old me. The boy I like is out there right now collecting phone numbers from beautiful girls who can excite him in ways I should never allow myself to dream about.

I shrug in response to Alice. "I've dropped a size in pants, so I did get some new clothes last weekend."

The bell over the door tinkles, and in walk Jasper and Edward, both looking as though they've just weathered the same tornado. Which, indeed, they have. Jasper lights up when he spies Alice, and he crosses quickly and gives her a kiss in greeting. "Hey, Pixie. Sorry about that. The fans want what the fans want!"

She forgives him instantly, if there was anything to forgive at all. "I ordered you guys pepperoni and sausage," she informs them both, sliding a mug of beer into Jasper's hand.

"Thanks, Babe, I'm starved!"

Edward is adorably mussed, his hat sits askew on top of his ruffled hair, and his shirt is completely untucked. He's wearing the expression of a little boy who's come home late for dinner. He scoots into the seat between Jasper and me and takes the Diet Coke gratefully. As he reaches for his drink, I can see numbers scrawled darkly up his right forearm. Ten digits, to be exact. He catches me looking and flips his arm over in embarrassment.

"New friends?" I tease, hoping the jealousy I'm feeling won't ooze out all over the table between us.

"They get bolder each time. I thought if I just signed my name a few times, they'd go on to the next guy," he says miserably.

Jasper lets out a full, loud, belly laugh. "Oh, you are such a babe in the woods. With your win today, you just hit the top ten in our conference. Dude, you better get used to signing autographs and collecting phone numbers. Not to mention fan mail and calls from agents!"

Alice perks up, "You've been getting calls from agents, Jazzy?"

But I get stuck on the phone numbers and fan mail.

Our order number is called at the counter, and Jasper and Alice jump up to get the food. I stand up to help but Edward puts his hand out and pins down my forearm. "Bella, wait!" He quickly pulls his hand away and I slide back down into my seat.

"Please," he says more gently. "Before they come back, I really want to thank you for today. For being there, for what you said to me…it really helped."

Eat that, fangirls!

**^EPOV^**

And if I were truly being honest, I would add, 'And for the reality check this morning.'

"I'm so happy for you, Edward," she says.

"Bella, this is seriously your dinner?" Jasper goads, setting her garden salad with grilled chicken in front of her. "I asked for your dressing and the guy said you just wanted lemon wedges," he says incredulously.

"Back off, you insensitive oaf!" Alice warns him. "Did you know Bella's already lost eighteen pounds in just a month? She must be doing something right!"

Bella looks mortified at the attention now focused on her eating habits and her body.

"Eighteen pounds?" Jasper comments, "That's quite an accomplishment. What are you doing for strength training?"

And now I'm pissed. Not only because he's making her uncomfortable, but also because he's treading dangerously close to my own plans for helping Bella.

I give Jasper's leg a sideways kick under the table, and he looks at me curiously. I shut him down with my eyes as I take the pizza into my mouth, quietly savoring the pepperoni and sausage.

Alice takes a break from her broccoli and spinach slice of the day to tease Jasper. "Maybe you should watch what you're eating over there, Mr. Pepperoni & Rolling Rock!"

Jasper is not the least bit offended. He chuckles and says, "Don't worry, Pixie. Riley will take care of that tomorrow."

"Who's Riley?" Bella asks.

I take my chance to jump into the conversation. "One of the perks of being an athlete at Holden is access to a personal trainer. Since I've been here, I've put on about ten pounds of muscle, thanks to Riley."

"Well, that sounds a little counterproductive," Bella remarks.

Jasper chokes on his beer. "Ouch, brother," he says to me.

"What did I say?" she asks, looking between us curiously.

"I think you just insulted Edward's six-pack, Bella," Alice supplies helpfully.

Jasper covers his mouth with his fist, pretends to sneeze, and mumbles, "Eight pack. Eight pack."

I kick Jasper again, harder this time. _Cut. It. Out._

Apparently, Jasper doesn't enjoy being kicked, and he retaliates. "Why don't you _show_ her, Edward?"

_What the FUCK?_

"Come on, guys, people are eating here," I say mildly, hoping to derail him.

"I think it's a great idea," pipes up Alice. "You'd be doing Bella a favor, I mean, if she's never seen the benefits of strength training up close before…"

Jasper snorts, "Yeah, it'll be kind of like a Public Service Announcement."

"You're embarrassing both of us," I plead. "Cut it out." I chance a peek at Bella. She's munching away on her salad, her face a perfect mask of nonchalance.

**~BPOV~**

Would I like to see Edward's eight-pack? Hells, yeah. But clearly, this is not the time or place for such a display. I bury yet more unfulfilled desires, hearkening back to Rosalie's warning that unexpressed feelings tend to pop out when they're least expected.

Jasper and Alice leave some cash and head out to "celebrate".

"I'm going to need to get my Psych notes in about fifteen minutes," Edward calls out in warning as Jasper wraps his arm around Alice and pulls her through the door.

He's shaking his head slowly as he crumples up his napkin and throws it on the table. "Why do I feel like I owe you about fifteen apologies right now?"

"I don't know. Why _do_ you?" Frankly, he looks miserable. Not at all the way a person should look after winning an important match.

He catches sight of his arm again and laments, "Those stupid girls. I think she used a Sharpie. Christ, I'll have to take five showers before this comes off."

_Yum, thanks for the visual._

"I guess she wanted to leave her mark on you."

"It must be how a pregnant woman feels when random people come up and rub her belly."

"They rubbed your belly?" I say in mock horror.

He looks at me sharply. "They untucked my shirt, Bella. Close enough."

"Sorry," I say, duly chastised. "Isn't that the kind of behavior boys your age generally live for?"

He stands suddenly, pushing back the aluminum chair with the back of his knees. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," I mumble, wondering how to salvage the situation.

O)(O

We walk in silence back to his dorm, but it's not our usual comfortable silence. He's got his hands tucked deep into his pockets, and I have to struggle just to stay one step behind. When we arrive at his door, he warns me, "You probably want to wait here." He knocks firmly and yells, "I'm coming in!"

Twisting the key and pushing through in one swift motion, Edward heads straight for his desk, eyes forward. He grabs his little Psych pile, spins around, and pulls the door shut behind him.

"You still want to do this, Bella?" he asks.

"Of course. Do you?" _You're the one who's angry and upset._

"Yeah. So where should we go?"

My room is the obvious choice, but what if Rose is in there trying to get work done? What if she's not? Can I handle having Edward Cullen in my room, sitting at my desk, filling my space with his _Edwardness_?

Is the library a better location? Whatever this is between us right now, we'd have to set it aside in a public space. I'd have to share him again with the rest of the female population of Holden, at least the ones at the library.

"One sec," I tell him, shooting Rose a quick text.

_Where r u? Can I study in the room with Edward for a while?_

_I'm at Emmett's. Text me when ur done. Study hard. *wink*_

I roll my eyes at the phone. "Rose is at Emmett's. You want to come to my room?"

"Okay," he shrugs. Of course, he wouldn't be tortured by this decision. It's just a desk and two chairs for him. And an extra brain.

**^EPOV^**

What the fuck was Jasper's problem at dinner? He's not usually so clueless or cavalier. It was totally fucking embarrassing!

The frustration is churning, and I know I'm irritable. And on top of that, I'm feeling horribly guilty, because here's Bella, giving up her whole day and night for me, and I'm actually angry with her. No, not angry. I'm disappointed. I think that's worse.

Is that really what she thinks of me? That I'm just like every other guy my age? That my goal in life is to be mauled by random girls who couldn't give a shit about who I am? That I've purposely brought on this kind of attention, that I should feel fucking _grateful_ for it?

And now I'm supposed to sit here, trapped like a caged lion, and cram these foreign concepts into my head? It reminds me of the time I babysat for my next-door-neighbor's baby and they made me feed him mashed peas. I tried and tried to force the green pile of boiled goo into his mouth, but nothing I did would make him unseal his lips. I called Mom in desperation, and she laughed and told me to hold his nose. So I tried that, and when he eventually opened his mouth, I quickly stuffed in the peas. I remember the look of betrayal on his face after that. Two seconds later, he sprayed the peas all over my face, my clothes, and my hair. It took me a week until I finally felt my hair was pea-free.

"Cognitive Dissonance?" she quizzes.

I shake my head no. Mashed peas. She sets the index card into the pile with all the other terms I can't remember.

"Edward?" she asks quietly. "Can we talk?"

I turn my head and really look at her for the first time since dinner. She's hurting, too. There's no way we're going to be productive.

"Let's get out of here," I suggest. "I don't suppose ice cream is on your approved list of study breaks?"

She shakes her head no. "I'm supposed to reward myself with non-caloric treats," she parrots Rose's advice.

"What might those be?" I say, so relieved that the heaviness seems to be lifting.

"Taking a walk with a friend," she says, carefully monitoring my response.

"A walk it is, then."

As soon as we get outside, she starts, "Look, I said the wrong thing before. I'm really sorry."

"I'm sorry I got so upset," I admit. And I am sorry. But I am also still upset. "I guess I thought you knew me better than to assume that I'd want that kind of attention."

"It just never occurred to me that someone like you wouldn't want girls swarming all over him."

"Someone like me? Who's that?" I brace myself for the answer I dread: the dumb jock. I know she won't say it like that; she's way too kind, but that's what she'll mean.

"Sensitive, sweet, graceful, eligible…" _Okay_… "Eightpack-wielding, so I hear?"

And that reminds me of one of the apologies I owe her, "God, Bella, I'm sorry Jasper was acting like a dick before. It's really not like him."

"I guess his abs aren't as impressive as yours, and he's a little jealous."

"Why do you say that?" I just happen to know she's correct, but _she_ doesn't know that.

"Easy. If he wanted to show me a well-sculpted body, he could've just lifted his own shirt, but he knew his point would be better made if you showed me yours."

I have to laugh out loud at her logic. Once again, she's given me the benefit of the doubt. What is it about this girl?

**~BPOV~**

Okay, all this talk about Edward's abs is starting to make me feel a little dizzy. I break my own rules and go bold. "So, what's the big deal about your abs, Edward?"

He smirks, "Well, they _are_ pretty spectacular."

I stop walking, and before he realizes it, he's taken two more steps. "What?" he asks.

"Come on, Edward. Are you going to make me beg?" My palms are sweaty, my heart is banging against my chest. I cannot believe I've just asked this boy to lift up his shirt. But he's been teasing me. Holy shit, I sound exactly like James!

Suddenly, I'm horrified. "Never mind. God, that was weird. I'm sorry."

He shrugs and smiles a very Jasper-like no-worries kind of smile. We walk on. "So, you _do_ know the real benefit of strength training, right?"

"Not show-off-worthy abs and arms?"

He chuckles. "Nope. When you convert your…uh…"

"For God's sake, Edward, are you afraid to say the word 'fat'?"

"Okay, when you convert fat to muscle, your metabolism increases, making you lose weight even faster. Plus, strengthening your core," and he points vaguely to his waist and smiles, "is great for your golf game."

"Okay, okay. I'm convinced."

"Great! If it's okay with you, Bella, I'd really like to talk to Riley about taking you on as a client. He's fantastic. I know you'll really like him."

"Edward, I could never work out in your team area-"

"No, he has a private space on the other side of campus. It's a Physical Therapy gym."

"How much does he charge?" Charlie's a public servant and the only reason we can make tuition and board is my meager academic scholarship.

"I don't want to guess at that right at the moment. I just need to know that your mind is open before I approach him."

"My mind is open, but my pocketbook is small."

"I don't think he'll let that be a roadblock. Let's see what he says."

"Thanks, Edward."

O)(O

"That does it. There are no more cards in the I-don't-know pile. You learned everything!"

"Thanks to you," he says, packing up.

"Whatever, Edward. You want to give me all the credit, go right ahead. Just get a good grade tomorrow."

"See you in class, and thanks again," he says walking across the room and reaching for the knob. "Oh, by the way, Bella…"

I turn back toward his voice. "Yeah?"

He's got his backpack slung over one shoulder and his thumb hooked casually under the strap to hold it in place. With the other hand, he abruptly raises his shirt all the way to his neck and wiggles around his abs playfully. "Your non-caloric treat for being so good tonight!"

_Yeah, that is SO much better than ice cream! Holy mother of abdominal muscles, do you SERIOUSLY not have a clue how much you're torturing me, Edward Cullen?_

He's grinning like a mad fool, waiting to see my reaction. I play it cool, as if he hasn't just shown me the Eighth Wonder of the World. As if I won't be picturing what's under his shirt every single time I look at him from now on. As if I don't want to rush over there right now and test how those rock-hard muscles covered in soft, satiny skin feel under my fingers. As if I'm not worried that I might have a little drop of drool starting down my chin.

"Thanks so much for not doing that at The Pie, Edward."

**^EPOV^**

_B- Psych exam was a breeze. Off to Bates. Be good while I'm away. Earn yourself another treat! –E_

_E- Glad to hear it went well! Remember, putter head to the hole… B_

"That must be Bella," says Jasper, tossing his bag into the compartment over our heads and jamming me in against the window.

I nod. "Just getting my last minute putting advice."

"Apparently, I was a douche yesterday and I owe you both an apology."

"I assume I can thank Alice for enlightening you?"

"Yeah."

"Apology accepted."

"Tell Bella."

"You tell Bella," I say, handing him my phone.

He taps in a message and gets a response. Laughing, he hands it back to me.

_Edward, was that you pretending to be Jasper? –B_

_B- No, it was Jasper being Jasper. But now you've got me again. –E_

_E- OK, tell him thanks and no worries, pls. –B_

"She says not to worry. She forgives you."

"She's a great girl."

"Yep," I answer, sliding my phone into my front pocket.

"So, is she the reason we're not going out to find you a girl tonight?"

"What? No, Jas. Bella or no Bella, that's just wrong."

"Okay," he answers, then pops in his ear buds, turns on his iPod, and closes his eyes.

_Fucking Jas._


	7. Persuasive Essay

**10/10/2011**

**~BPOV~**

"Well, I'm really pleased that some of you have figured out how brilliant I am," says Professor Banner, passing back our papers. "And others of you are obviously still trying to figure out what you're supposed to be talking about with your partners."

Professor Banner hands me my paper, and as soon as I read his comments, I pass it along to Edward's outstretched hand.

'_Clearly your partnership is a model for the class. Keep up the good work, you two! Nice job assessing your partner's strengths and weakness, as well as your own, Miss Swan. A (again).'_

And Edward does the same. _'I do agree with your conclusion, Mr. Cullen, and I'm pleased that you're both putting so much effort into the peer review process. Solid points, well backed with __excellent examples__. You're showing some real promise. A.'_

"Here were some of the more interesting mismatches of the week…"

O)(O

"This week, each of you is going to write a persuasive essay to convince your audience to do something very specific."

Titters of laughter float around the room before Banner puts a lid on it. "For the first time, you're going to be writing from a point of view that is not your own. All of the available essay topics are contained in this box, and you'll each pick one on the way out. You will need to do a MINIMAL amount of research-"

He's interrupted by groans, but he ignores us and carries on.

"I'm talking ten minutes on the internet, guys. Let's say you're writing to persuade the government not to drill for oil in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. In order to make a convincing argument, you'll need to know that experts believe this is only a six-month oil supply at best. There's a format sheet included with each topic explaining exactly how to lay out your essay. See you Wednesday."

Edward leans over and asks, "Are you free from 3:45 to 5:15 today?"

Another hour and a half with Edward? "Sure."

"I'll pick you up. Wear something comfortable for working out."

Oh wow. This is real. Instantly, my body floods with anxiety. "So soon?"

"Yeah," he says. "I spoke to Riley last night when we got back. He has an opening Mondays and Fridays at 4 for you."

"Edward, I-"

"Bella, I know you're nervous. Just meet Riley. You trust me, right?"

Lord, have mercy, I do.

O)(O

Edward and I are the last to leave class. Gentleman that he is, he lets me pull first. _'Persuade voters that it's a good idea for the local grocery store to be allowed to sell wine.'_

And he takes the last slip. '_Persuade your parent to allow you to keep an iguana in your room.' _ A huge grin takes over all of Edward's face.

"Now what did you get that's making you so goofy?"

He passes his assignment over to me and I trade him mine. "Yours isn't bad, but mine's a slam dunk," he tells me.

"Why is that?"

"Emmett just happens to have an iguana and he's a walking encyclopedia of reasons why they make great pets."

"Gee, my next door neighbor from home is a wino. Maybe I should call _her_!"

"Works for me," Edward teases. "Now listen, you don't go getting all nervous on me between now and 3:45, okay?"

Too late.

O)(O

At 3:45 on the dot, Edward taps on the door. I open it with mixed feelings. He's holding his hands suspiciously behind his back and he's watching me like he's afraid I'm going to bolt.

"Hi?" I say-slash-ask.

"I got you a present," he tells me, brandishing a neon green aluminum Holden water bottle in one hand.

"Thanks, Edward. That was really sweet of you."

"It's important to stay hydrated." The other hand now comes around from behind and he opens his fist to reveal a small bottle of ibuprofen. "Take two now," he says sheepishly. "Trust me."

**^EPOV^**

"Bella, this is Riley. Riley, Bella."

"Come on in and have a seat," he offers. Bella is confused because there's nothing in the studio except for the giant balls scattered around the room.

Determined to ease her into this, I model the behavior he's looking for, and take a practiced seat on top of one of the largest balls.

"Edward, are you staying?" Riley asks.

"Until Bella wants me to leave."

"Fair enough," he answers, looking to Bella. "Should we let him stay?"

"For now," she answers, gingerly squatting down onto the ball nearest mine. It rolls away slightly and she loses her balance, flailing her arms out to her sides reflexively. I grab her hand and steady her. She blushes furiously and pulls her hand away as soon as she's stable. Riley watches this whole exchange with great interest but doesn't say a word.

He rolls a ball around right in front of Bella and hops on with practiced ease. "Bella, tell me about your goals."

"Um," she starts timidly, "I've been losing weight, mostly through walking and dieting. I guess I'd like to firm up…"

She glances at me before continuing.

"Strengthen my core so I can eventually beat Edward at golf…"

I snort at her unexpected humor.

"And build up more muscle mass so I can eat real food again."

He smiles genuinely at her. "Well, two of the three are totally doable…"

I very maturely stick my tongue out at her.

"…but I wouldn't expect to eat whatever you want and continue to lose weight."

"HA!" she gloats.

"HEY!" I complain, feeling totally betrayed by Riley.

"Okay," Riley says. "Let's get real. How much time are you willing to commit to this enterprise?"

Bella answers, "I've got time. You tell me."

"Well, I'd like to see you at least two sessions a week, and then we can see if a third is warranted."

"Riley, I need to be really honest with you," she says. "Paying for this is going to be a stretch- no pun intended."

Riley skitters his feet smoothly along the floor until his ball is perched right in front of Bella's. "Bella, I want to offer you a deal."

Bella's eyes flick over to me. I have no idea what he's going to say; only that he's promised to make it workable. I simply shrug, silently asking her to hear him out.

"What kind of deal?" she asks skeptically.

"Edward tells me you're a great writing coach."

Her eyes snap to me again. Again, I shrug.

"There's a student I train who needs academic help, but he's not eligible for Holden tutoring. Would you be willing to work with him, maybe a few hours a week, in exchange for my training time?"

"I guess, but why are you going out on a limb for this one kid in particular?" she asks. Fair enough.

"He's my little brother."

I can't explain it, but at that moment, my insides twist in a most uncomfortable way.

O)(O

Riley helps Bella balance on the ball in preparation for her first set of abdominal crunches. I hope he remembers to be sensitive to Bella's skittishness. I observe protectively as he manipulates her arms and legs and, at one point, taps her different sets of abdominal muscles.

"Okay, now squeeze right here and lift from your shoulder blades."

"Hang on one sec," Bella tells Riley, twisting her head in my direction. "You stay, you crunch. It's up to you!"

I'm torn. On the one hand, though I've warned Riley, he still seems entirely too free with his hands for my liking. On the other hand, I've already had my work out today and it's not as if Riley's going to let me do anything half-assed, especially where I'd be an example for Bella. In the end, I put my faith in Riley.

"I think I'll leave you two to have some quality time together. Meet you back here at 5."

"Edward, you don't have to babysit me."

"It's escorting, not babysitting. Riley, be gentle. Bella, work hard."

As I pull the studio door closed behind me, Riley lays his palm across her abdominals.

_What was I thinking?_

**~BPOV~**

"Can you feel this muscle working?" Riley asks, pressing on my belly after a few repetitions.

I am trying really hard not to be whiny, but I feel the burn almost instantly. With Edward out of the room, I don't feel the need to mask my effort or my pain.

"Yes," I puff out. "I feel it all!"

"Good," Riley says, his eyes dancing merrily. "That means you're doing it properly. Three more please."

The third one is really only a half, but Riley doesn't comment.

"Okay, now stretch that muscle right out, like this," he says, then pulls me into the most delicious stretch. "Breathe into it, Bella. Let the muscle get some oxygen."

Just when I've decided maybe I don't hate Riley so much, he says three words that change my mind.

"Other side now."

O)(O

"So are you one of those people who enjoy inflicting pain on others?"

"No," he laughs kindly. "I'm one of those people who like to help other people meet their goals."

"So, you're the one responsible for Edward's…abs?"

His eyebrows pop up at my question, but he immediately regains his composure. "Actually, _Edward_ is responsible for that. You know, he works harder than any other student I train?"

Which I guess would explain why he's got two more…er, beers…in his pack than Jasper.

"I'm not saying he makes a life out of working out. But when he's scheduled, he comes in on time, gets down to work, and gives it his whole focus. Not a single complaint."

"Is that supposed to be a hint?"

"You can put your leg down now," he says, releasing my ankle. "Bella, no matter how diligently we stretch today, you are going to be sore. You're working new muscles, and they're going to protest at first."

"I guess that's why Edward gave me the Advil earlier."

Riley's lips quirk up around the edges. "Last exercise, Bella. We're going to do some modified push-ups."

"We?" I protest mildly.

Riley chuckles. "Okay, _you_."

O)(O

"So here's Connor's phone number and email. I'll send him a message right now saying you'll be in touch. I'm sure you two are going to get along really well."

"Thanks again, Riley. I'll see you Friday."

Riley pulls open the door for me and I pass through to see a somewhat harried version of Edward in the waiting room.

"Maybe you can leave your bodyguard at home on Friday," Riley says, chuckling at Edward.

**^EPOV^**

_Fucking Riley. _ Bella's wariness around men is not a joke to me. I've spent the last thirty minutes pacing this floor. Well, that's not exactly true. I tried to leave, even got as far as the end of the block, before becoming so agitated I had to turn around and come back here. I realize I'm being ridiculous, but that doesn't make the anxiety go away.

I finally start to relax when I see her come out of the studio, looking exhausted but otherwise fine. Riley holds out his hand and gives her the traditional sendoff when she takes his hand and shakes it. "Great work today, Bella."

There's no hesitation on Bella's part, no reaction at all to his touch, I notice with growing confusion.

I reflect back to the part of their session I was privy to, when Riley was moving Bella into various positions, illustrating different muscle groups with a light tap here and there. I never saw her flinch, not once.

How is it possible that she can accept his touch so easily whereas mine still makes her jumpy?

A most disturbing thought enters my head uninvited. Bella is not uncomfortable with men in general; she's uncomfortable with _me_, specifically.

"Edward? You ready?"

I shake the unwelcome thought from my head and refocus. "Sure. Let's go. I'll see you Wednesday, Riley."

I open the outer door for Bella and out of force of habit, lightly place my hand on the small of her back as she passes in front of me. Her response is instantaneous and unmistakable. A shiver passes through her body and she pushes forward.

"I'm all gross and sweaty," she says, by way of explanation.

_And you totally creep me out_, she fails to add.

O)(O

On the walk back, I try to be attentive to the conversation, but I'm completely devastated by my unpleasant discovery. Here, I foolishly imagined I would be the one to restore Bella's faith in the male gender, and it turns out, I'm the very one giving her the willies.

"Edward, what is the matter with you today?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I have a big math test tomorrow," I lie.

"How are you doing in Pre-Calc?"

"Fine," I lie again.

"So, weren't you surprised when Professor Banner pulled a gun out of his drawer this morning and shot Angela in the head?"

"Uh huh," I mumble.

"EDWARD!"

My heart pounds wildly. "What? What's wrong?"

"Never mind," she walks along quietly, shaking her head.

A comforting idea suddenly takes root. What if this is about Riley, not me? I can appreciate Riley's facility with the human body, and to a large extent, with the human mind. It's not that unrealistic that Riley would be the only male Bella could tolerate. Maybe it's not me at all. My heart lightens a smidgen.

I only have a sample of two in my most unscientific experiment. In order to test my theory, I need a third man. Inspiration strikes.

"Bella, I was thinking…"

"Yes, I can see that you're up to you ears in thought tonight."

"Since I need to ask Emmett some questions for my paper, and he's dating your roommate and all, you want to see if they want to have dinner tomorrow night?"

"You mean the four of us?"

"Yeah. Are you free?"

"Sure, I mean, I almost always eat with Rose anyways. She likes to 'help me make healthy choices'." She uses air quotes around the phrase to punctuate the sarcasm.

Perfect. Emmett is the most demonstrative guy I know. Even if I asked him to, he wouldn't be able to keep his big friendly paws off Bella. It's the only way I can know for sure.

"Good. I'll ask Emmett. You and Rose pick the place."

"Okay. Hey, Edward, thanks for setting me up with Riley. You were right. He's really pretty great."

I force a smile onto my face. "Glad you liked him. So, are you still going to putt with me in the morning?"

"Sure, Edward," she says as we reach her door. "And thanks for my new water bottle."

"You're welcome. See you in the morning."

**~BPOV~**

"Connor, hi. My name is Bella Swan. I got your number from Riley?"

"Yeah, he told me you'd be calling. So you're some kind of a writing tutor?"

"Well, not formally. I just …well, it comes fairly easily to me, and I guess I'm pretty good at helping people."

Connor laughs deeply and I'm instantly reminded of Riley. "He told me you'd be all modest and shit."

I have to smile. "So, when do you want to get together and talk?"

"I'm going to be up all night writing a computer program. Then I'll catch a few winks before my classes at noon. Oh, shoot, I'd really like to see you before 3 tomorrow. I have to do a rewrite of my paper for my Management class."

"I have classes from 9 to 1. Sounds like the only time we might catch is before you go to sleep in the morning," I say jokingly.

"Hey, that actually might work. Could you meet me at 7:30?"

_My putting time with Edward._

"Sure." I can't very well turn him down the first time he needs me after Riley's made such a generous offer. I can only imagine how much he normally charges per hour.

"Great. Meet you outside the library at 7:30?"

"Okay. Oh, how will I recognize you?"

He chuckles lightly. "Well, first off, I will be the only dude standing outside the library at 7:30 in the morning. And secondly, I've been told I look an awful lot like my brother, so just look for the really handsome guy with big bags under his bloodshot eyes."

"Got it." Okay, so that was kind of a silly question. "See you then, Connor."

"Cheers."

_E- So sorry I have to cancel on you for tomorrow morning. I'm meeting Riley's brother Connor at that time. We're all set for dinner at 6:30 at O'Hara's. See you there. –B_

_Bella- No worries. See you at dinner. E_

**^EPOV^**

I've never been stuck at the twelve inch mark for so long. I haven't sunk more than three in a row. It's totally ridiculous. It's all Bella's fault.

No, it's _my_ fault.

It was my idea to bring her to Riley, and now everything is messed up. Instead of spending time with me, she's helping Connor. For all I know, Connor's the black sheep of the family. Maybe he looks nothing like Riley, has nothing of his ease with Bella, isn't touching her right now as I putt- FUCK, _miss_- yet another shot.

Frustrated with my repeated failures, I jam my putter into my bag and haul my clubs up to the range. Maybe hitting some long balls will help me work off some of my tension.

O)(O

I pay less attention than usual in Pre-Calc, but when Dr. Bender passes back the midterms, I take note of my C minus. I'm sure Bella could save me in this class, too, but I'm too proud to ask. Does she have to know my every weakness? Besides, she has a new student to help now; I'm not her only concern.

I shove my math supplies into the backpack and I'm pulling the zipper around when I feel a firm hand on my shoulder. "Edward, do you have a second?"

"Sure, Dr. Bender."

He sits down in the chair next to me, and I settle back in. "Edward, I've noticed things are starting to take a bit of a downward spiral here."

I have no answer for that. He's right.

"I don't want to see you fail. What can I do to help?"

I shrug.

"Are you having trouble understanding my lectures?"

"Sometimes," I admit. "The pace of the class is pretty fast."

"You're always welcome to come see me during office hours. Or if you'd like, I can certainly recommend a good tutor for you."

"I guess I better talk to a tutor," I say miserably. Can't I do anything by myself? Oh yes, Jazz. I'm doing just fine in History of Jazz. I'm a good listener, it seems.

Dr. Bender takes a hard look into my eyes before pulling a short list out of his pocket. "The first two are the best, but they may already have a full plate."

"Okay. Thanks," I say, standing up and stuffing the paper into my own pocket.

He stands beside me. "You're at a real critical point here, Edward. Work your way out of this. I know you can."

"Yes, sir. I will certainly try." I feel bolstered by his pep talk.

"All right. Good," he says, placing his hand along my shoulder again.

**~BPOV~**

"The wounded dog glows brightly at midnight."

"Huh?"

"Bella?"

"Connor?"

"Yeah, hi. I was just messing with you. Spy stuff. Sorry, I've been up all night, remember?"

I love his sense of humor, and he's not hard on the eyes either. I decide I've made a really good trade. I get to work out free of charge with one good-looking, talented man and spend time with his even more handsome and witty little brother in payment? What's the punch line?

O)(O

"Well, you're certainly bright and bouncy tonight," says Rose as we get dressed for dinner.

"I feel great today!"

"Well, you look great, too, Bella. Twenty pounds is a huge milestone, B! I am so proud of you."

"And we're going to celebrate tonight with fully loaded potato skins,Buffalo wings, nachos, and a hot fudge brownie sundae, right?"

"Now tell me honestly, Bella, did that little fantasy make you feel better or worse?"

"Point well taken," I admit. I catch her giving me an evaluative stare.

"What?"

"Your jeans are a little loose, but they'll do. But that top is _not_ working for you. Your new shape deserves something more form-fitting…"

She starts pulling open drawers and I realize with a start that she's going to lend me something. It's a minor miracle that I could even consider sharing clothes with my perfect Barbie-shaped roommate. She holds up a short-sleeved cashmere sweater that I've never seen her wear, and I notice as she tosses it to me that it still has the tags on it.

"Blue is not my color. If you like it, it's yours."

Eager to live out this fantasy of doing something so utterly normal as sharing my college roommate's clothing, I twist off my shirt and pull the sweater over my head. It is by far the softest, silkiest, finest piece of clothing to grace my body. Miraculously, it is not too tight around my arms or my boobs or my neck or waist. Before I can even get to the mirror, Rose is in my face, jumping up and down, telling me how amazing I look.

I rush to the mirror to confirm her compliments, and all of a sudden, I see the makings of a swan where before an ugly duckling stood. Rose moves next to my reflection and drapes her arm around me. "Consider that your non-caloric treat for the night. Enjoy, sweetie!"

O)(O

Edward and Emmett are waiting by the door when we arrive. Emmett's exuberant, "ROSALITA!" reverberates as he takes her into his arms as if they hadn't spent the whole afternoon together. I instantly sense that something is off with Edward.

He's dressed carelessly, which is unlike him. His button-down is half in, half out of his jeans, his sleeves are rolled up sloppily and unevenly. His hair is sticking out in every direction. And he's got a lost look on his face.

I knew something was weird last night on our walk back, but now I'm truly alarmed. "Edward?"

**^EPOV^**

Even habitually unobservant Emmett notices I'm not myself when I walk into O'Hara's.

"What's with the crazy hair, bro? You trying out a new look?"

"Yes, it's called 'I Had A Crappy-Ass Day'. Could you please lay off?"

"Okay, take it easy. Tell me the worst thing that happened today."

"Okay, Mom," I answer, because he's used our mother's favorite tactic for dealing with an unhappy son, or husband for that matter. "I'm about to slide into academic probation."

"Stop right there," he says. "That's enough bad."

"Exactly." Which is a good thing, really, because I quickly realize all the rest of my bad things have to do with Bella, and I don't really feel like sharing them with Emmett.

"Which class?"

"Pre-Calc."

"Can you fix it?"

"I think so. Bender gave me the name of some tutors and I'm meeting one tomorrow afternoon."

"All right, sounds like you're taking care of business. You'll be okay," he reassures me, clapping his meaty hand against my shoulder blade. That seems to be everyone's favorite pastime these days, I notice.

"Here come the girls," he warns. "Put on your happy face."

I look out the large plate glass windows onto the street. I see Rose's blonde head, and next to her a great-looking blue sweater with a head of brown hair above it.

_Holy shit! Is that Bella?_

I've been with her nearly every day for the past couple of weeks, but I feel as though I'm meeting her for the very first time. It's not easy to reconcile the Bella I've come to know to the brand new shiny covering to which my eyes have now glued themselves.

I register Emmett bellowing a greeting to Rose, and I hear Bella say my name.

"Yeah?"

"How was your math test?"

Oh yeah, my lie from last night. "Not bad. How was your meeting with Connor?"

"It went well. Sorry about canceling on you. It was the only time we could meet."

"No problem. Hey, is that a new sweater?"

"Yeah."

Rosalie overhears the conversation. "Doesn't she look fabulous?" Rose asks, pointing Bella's shoulders, and everything else in the front of her sweater, directly at me.

As if I needed prompting to notice. Forcing my eyes up where they belong, I agree enthusiastically. "You look great, Bella."

"Hey, is that as soft as it looks?" Emmett asks.

And here it comes. Three….two…one… Contact! Emmett pulls Bella in with both arms, squeezes her tightly, then proceeds to rub his hands up and down the back of her sweater. Bella giggles good-naturedly.

And there's my answer.

O)(O

"Okay, are you almost done? Because it's bad enough the iguana has to be in the room while we're…you know. If I'd known we were going to be talking about him all through dinner, I might not have agreed to come."

"Come on, Rosie, don't be like that. You know Ziggy loves you."

"I think I have everything I need anyways. Sorry, Rose. I hope I didn't spoil your appetite."

Bella says, "Well, you may be done with your research, but I haven't started yet. I better get going. Rose, you walking back?"

"Actually, I –"

"She's going to check on Ziggy with me, right Babe?" Rose rolls her eyes but climbs under Emmett's burly arm.

"I'll walk you back, Bella." _If you're not too creeped out to be alone with me._

**~BPOV~**

I flash back to when Edward first told me the only thing he and Emmett have in common is their eyes. He's so right. If only Edward felt as free as Emmett to check out the texture of my sweater. The only time he seems comfortable touching me is when I'm holding a golf club. That's why giving up this morning with Edward was such a sacrifice for me. I resolve to set boundaries for Connor so that doesn't happen again.

Edward's walking a half-pace behind me, hands planted firmly in his pockets, so careful not to let any limbs get loose. Too bad.

"You look a lot more relaxed now than when I first saw you tonight," I comment.

"I didn't have the best day."

"I'm sorry. What happened?"

"For starters, I couldn't putt this morning."

"Oh."

"I mean, AT ALL."

I know I shouldn't feel happy about that, but my lips are ticking up at the edges against my will.

"Did you remember what I taught you?" I tease him.

He bumps me with his shoulder.

"Okay, what else?"

He stops walking, and I turn back. Uh-oh. Right hand behind the neck. Something big is bothering him.

"I got back a test in Pre-Calc today."

"Okay," I say, acknowledging his earlier lies. "How bad?"

"Bad enough."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Tutor, I guess."

"Maybe I could-"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you could. But I need to take care of this… without you."

"Oh." Ouch.

"Bella, I don't want you to start seeing me as someone you have to save. I want us to be the equal partners that Banner thinks we are. Things are getting too uneven."

Things are _so_ uneven, but Edward doesn't have a clue. It's not fair how much I want him, crave his touch, and he has no idea and no such need for me.

"I understand," I tell him. "Even though I really want to help you."

"Thank you."

"What else?"

"Emmett got to feel your sweater and I didn't."

_Holy mother of confessions_.

**^EPOV^**  
>There. I fucking said it. At least some of it. I didn't say, "Why am I the only one you're afraid of?" But it's a start anyways.<p>

She holds her ground, and I take that as permission. I reach my hands to her shoulders and let my thumbs rub tiny circles. The fabric is so soft; I can't help but breathe out the word, "Soft." She smiles a little and holds perfectly still.

My fingers trail downward until they reach the end of her short sleeves. I pull back definitively so she gets that I'm not going to take advantage and touch bare skin, too. She seems to be tolerating this, and I don't want to push too far.

I'm surprised when she takes one step forward. An invitation. I answer by replacing my hands on her shoulders. She lets out a low sigh that sounds like relief. Or maybe pleasure. It's not about feeling the sweater any more, and we both know it.

She moves one more step forward, so she's almost touching my chest. Her arms are glued to her sides. HHMy hands slide lightly down her back. I tip my head down and see that her eyes are closed. My hands move back up, and down again.

She takes yet another step forward. I freeze. She gingerly lays her cheek against my chest. It's such an intimate gesture.

I respond automatically by sliding my hands down to her waist. She presses into me, resting her weight against my chest. I gratefully accept her trust and wrap my arms fully around her, pulling her in.

My crappy day just got a whole lot brighter.

**~BPOV~**

As long as I live, I will never forget the bliss of this moment.

O)(O

"I like how you took the facts that Emmett gave you and twisted them to suit your needs. But I still think you need to convince me that you are going to take care of this animal yourself. Prove that you're responsible. Make something up; remember, it's not really you."

He smiles wryly, "Are you insinuating that I couldn't find proof of that from my own childhood?"

"No, I'm quite sure you could," I tell him honestly. "Here. Go crazy," I say, handing him my outline.

He takes his now-familiar pose while he considers my points: sitting back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other knee, left hand rubbing his chin subconsciously. He's pretty terrible at masking his emotions, so I can already tell he doesn't like something he read.

He sets the paper down on his desk and says, "You really think the increased risk of minors buying alcohol is worth saving the local housewives a trip to the liquor store?"

I can't contain my smile when I answer. "No, I really don't."

"Glad we agree, but I think you better be more convincing."

"Apparently." He slides my paper back to me.

We haven't talked about what happened last night, and I guess we're not going to. That's fine with me. I don't need to name it. Edward held me, and maybe he'll do it again soon.

"Are you going to be able to putt with me tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yes. I scheduled Connor for this afternoon instead."

"Oh. Good. That's really good. So I'll see you in the morning then." He sounds surprised, and I marvel at how he can really not know how addicted I am to being near him.

**^EPOV^**

I'm almost afraid to ask her if she's tutoring Connor again in the morning. I never expected our one-time putting experience to grow into a twice weekly ritual. And I certainly never expected to be thrown completely off-kilter when Bella couldn't join me yesterday. It's funny sometimes how you don't see things that are right in front of you.

Like the fact that it took a new sweater for me to see Bella with new eyes. But now that I've seen her, I just can't go back. She's nothing short of beautiful, and the simple fact is she always has been.

O)(O

"The funny thing is, I just told Bella you're my most focused trainee, and here you are drifting into space every third rep. Something is off with you lately," Riley observes.

"Sorry, Ri." I put my head back in the game. It's not fair to waste his time, and it's also potentially dangerous. I know better.

"You were right about her, by the way. Bella is great. I really enjoyed our first session. Three more…two…one. Good."

"So did she," I report.

"Connor really likes her, too. He told me after only two meetings with Bella, he already feels like he's on track and moving forward. She must be some kind of miracle worker. He's always had so much trouble with his writing. Sixty push-ups. Go."

I'm down on the ground and he's going on and on about how much Connor loves Bella. And you know what? It's enough already.

"Hey, Edward, slow down, man. Ease up there. Okay, that's better. Ten more."

I feel more driven than usual today. The sweat is pouring off me, and I can feel myself pushing harder than ever.

"All right. Let's work on those infamous abs I keep hearing about," he says. "So, Connor asked me if Bella was available."

"What?" I stop mid-crunch.

"He wants to ask her out. I told him to hold off until I checked with you."

That place in my guts twists again. "Riley, I'm not in charge of Bella. She can do whatever she wants."

"Sorry. I thought I picked up some kind of vibe the other day."

I shrug. "She's a good friend. I don't tell her who to date."

"Okay, then. I'll give Connor the green light. And those last three crunches don't count. Start again."

O)(O

Bella and I putt in peaceful silence. She's slipped right into my routine. She works harder than most of the guys on the team, and she certainly has more patience. She's making more of her long putts than she was last week.

"You know you're improving," I say.

"I love it when that happens," she smiles. "But more importantly, how are _you_ doing today?"

"So much better," I tell her honestly. "You know we play at home this weekend."

"When?"

"Jas and I have a team cup match Saturday afternoon and then individual matches Sunday morning."

"Well, aren't you going to ask me to come?"

"That's funny. I thought I just did."

**~BPOV~**

"Alice, I don't know what you did to him last night- and please don't take that as an invitation to tell me- but Jas is hitting the ball farther than he ever has before," Edward reports between the fourteenth and fifteenth holes.

"Yeah, and you've sunk every putt inside fifteen feet," I tell him.

He flashes a broad, happy smile, and I'm not sure if it's because he's putting so well or because I've noticed.

"It's a good day."

O)(O

"So, you don't drink any alcohol at all from September through the end of November?" I ask Edward.

"No. It messes up my sleep cycle and mucks up my workouts," he says rubbing his belly. As if I needed a reminder of what he's packing under that polo shirt.

"You do not want to mess with this kid's beauty rest, Bella. Trust me. It's not pretty," Jasper pipes up from across the table.

"Oh, and you're so much fun when you're hung over, Whitlock," he lobs back.

"I'll be on the first tee, ready to kick your ass tomorrow, bright and early." Jasper taunts Edward.

"Exactly how bright and early?" I ask, knowing that I've got Connor scheduled.

"We tee off at 8."

"I'll be there for the beginning, but I'm going to have to cut out a little early," I warn him.

"How come?" Edward asks.

"I have Connor at 11."

"So how's that going anyways?" Jasper asks me. "Is he anything like Riley?"

I chuckle. "He's the spitting image and has his same sense of humor."

Edward sips his Diet Coke and looks away.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?" he mumbles absently.

"Send me a text after the match tomorrow, okay? I want to know how you did."

"Sure. I'm pretty beat. See you guys in the morning," Edward says, rising suddenly.

"You want me to walk back with you?" I ask. Please, please, please. More holding?

"Nah, I don't want to break up the party. I'll see you tomorrow," he says.

O)(O

Edward's all business on Sunday. He barely comes to the side to talk to me and I don't call attention to myself when I have to leave.

Connor's waiting outside the library when I walk up at 11. "Before we enter the hallowed halls, Bella, I need to ask you something really important."

It sounds like the beginning of one of his jokes. "I'll bite. What's so important?" I ask, waiting for the punch line.

"Will you go out with me next Friday night?"

I was not expecting _that_. At all.

"Wha…you mean, like…on a …date?" Could I possibly be a little more awkward at this?

Then again, why should I expect to have a clue how to respond? It's not like I've ever been asked before.

Connor is so easy-going, my misstep doesn't faze him in the least. "Yeah, _just_ like a date."

Images of Edward crowd my head. The sweet, wonderful, hug- or something- we shared the other night. It feels like finally, we are moving in a certain direction together…maybe? And now, this beautiful, fun-loving sophomore is asking me out? What's the saying? 'When it rains, it pours.' Only I'm not sure Edward would qualify as rain. More like a sprinkle.

"Connor, I think I'm…I mean, we're…I have no idea…"

He laughs and says, "Okay…so, was that a yes or a no?"

"I'm not sure," I admit.

"Bella, if you're not sure, then you should _definitely_ say 'yes'," he counsels me, as if this is the unique, correct solution to the problem.

"How do you figure?"

He shrugs with the easy assurance of a man who knows what he wants. "If you were really committed to someone else, you wouldn't have had to think about it at all. So, give me a chance to win you over while you're making up your mind."

He's completely charming and even better, he wants to 'win me over'. I can't see the harm in giving Connor a chance.

"That sounds great, Connor. Now, let's get to work!"

O)(O

At 2:30, the following text appears:

_B- I took second. Jas kicked my ass. Missed you at the end. E_

Ignoring the unspoken question at the end of his message, I reply:

_E-Second's pretty awesome. You guys both played great all weekend. Congrats. B_

_B- So how was Connor? E_

And the question is no longer unspoken. I skirt the issue using my words as a weapon:

_E- We were productive. See you in Comp Sem. B_


	8. Describe Your Room

**10/17/2011**

**~BPOV~**

'_Well written, but I sense that your heart's not in this one, Miss Swan. If you have the long, productive career in writing that I foresee, you're going to be asked to write on plenty of topics that are not of your own choosing. You'll need to learn to set aside your personal feelings. B+'_

"Bella?" Edward's holding out his returned paper for our usual exchange.

"I guess Banner agreed with you," I say remorsefully.

"Lemme see," he says, crooking his finger for me to give him my paper. He quickly scans the comments and the grade before handing it back. He doesn't say a word, doesn't criticize Banner's assessment, doesn't make any excuses for me, doesn't remind me that one B plus is not going to affect my grade. And he doesn't say, 'I told you so.'

"This'll cheer you up," he chooses instead to pass me his own essay.

'_I'm already in my car on the way to the pet store. This kid could sell ice to Eskimos. Nicely done. A'_

I take another minute to read through Edward's essay, now that Dr. Banner has started allowing more time on Mondays for this kind of sharing. I have to chuckle at the examples he invented to illustrate that he's responsible. Never once missed the school bus, packs his own lunch, takes out the trash every Tuesday.

"This is really good, Edward. Hell, _I'd_ buy you the damn iguana!" I praise him honestly.

"Thanks, but no, thanks," he smiles, happy he's cheered me.

O)(O

"This week's assignment is a descriptive writing exercise. I want each of you to describe your childhood bedroom, 500 words. It can be the room you just left when you came to college, or it can be something from your more distant past. I suggest you write about something you remember vividly so that you can be sure to use colorful language. The goal is to bring me into your bedroom."

An immediate chorus of "Woo-hoo", "Oooh", "Doc-tah Ban-nah!" fills the small room.

"Hang on, that didn't come out right," he admits, mildly embarrassed. Despite my less than stellar grade, I really admire this man for his humanity and his humility. And truth be told, I didn't deserve a better grade this time.

"If you'd _like_ to do some research on this, call your parents. I'm sure they'd appreciate a phone call that's not just a request for money. Have a great day, everyone."

"So, you've got Riley this afternoon?" I ask him as we pass through the door.

"Yeah, at 1. You're on for 4, right?" he confirms.

"Yep. See if you can wear him down for me a little."

"Yeah, right. He doesn't miss a beat. There is absolutely no slacking off in that room. Don't even try," he warns, shaking his head slightly.

His little scolded boy expression makes me giggle. "I wouldn't dare. So, after that, I'm around, if you need help with anything." I hope that wasn't too obvious.

"Don't you have Connor today?"

"Yes, at 3," I inform him. I guess he hasn't figured out yet that I try to schedule Connor for when I know Edward is busy. _Just in case_.

"I'll see how things go. In any event, see you in the morning?"

"Sure."

"Be ready for something new," he says, his eyes flashing with mischief. _What are you thinking, Edward Cullen?_

**^EPOV^**

_What am I thinking_, alarming her like that? Trying to do the opposite of scaring her off, I fear I've done exactly that.

But that was Old Bella. This emerging new girl smiles broadly and answers, "You be ready, too."

_Huh?_

O)(O

I shower quickly after my workout and rush to the library to meet my new math tutor at 2:30. There's no mistaking the nerdy-looking girl waiting on the bottom step for me.

"Emily? I'm Edward."

She pushes her glasses up, brushes aside her dirty blonde bangs, and unfolds her long, lanky denim-covered legs to rise and greet me. "Hi," she says shyly, unable to meet my eyes.

I fear it's going to be a long hour. "Should we find a table inside?"

She leads me into the one room in the library where it's okay to talk. People are huddled in pairs throughout the room. It's tutor heaven in here.

I plop down my bag at the end of an empty table and Emily pulls out a chair to my right. "How do we do this?" I ask.

"Why don't you show me your quizzes and exams and we can go from there," she suggests.

I'm happily surprised when, after only half an hour, we're about one-quarter through the coursework and I understand everything Emily's covered. In fact, I'm actually feeling pretty optimistic about things until I look up and see Bella walk in, with a mini-Riley just behind. It didn't register that she would be coming in here at 3 with Connor. I find the situation more than a little humiliating, but I try not to get derailed.

Bella smiles and gives me a small wave. I know she won't interrupt me while I'm on the clock, nor would she take away time from Connor to have a conversation with me. They scoot into a table that already has two occupants and they hunker down at the other end, their backs to me and Emily.

Emily redirects my attention to the subject at hand, but I'm distracted. I can't help but look up every few minutes, especially once I notice how comfortable they are with each other, how close they're sitting. Riley's comment comes back to haunt me, and I wonder if Connor's already asked her out.

"Is there something about this new concept that you don't understand?" Emily asks, when I falter.

"Oh, sorry. No, just give me a minute…"

"Is that a friend of yours over there?" she asks. I am so busted. Here, I thought I'd been playing it cool.

"Her? Yeah, she's a friend," I mumble. I pull my cap out of my backpack and adjust it on my head so that the visor covers everything but my notebook on our table. That effectively limits my vision, but it doesn't stop my mind from wandering to the table across the room.

We finally finish our hour, and we arrange our next meeting for Thursday afternoon. The sooner I get back on track, the better. I choose an escape route through the sea of tables that won't attract Bella's attention.

**~BPOV~**

I can practically feel Edward's eyes boring holes through my back. I try to give Connor 100% of my attention, but I know I'm off a little. If Connor notices, he doesn't point it out. To make it up to him, I say, "Why don't you email your paper to me when you're done, and I'll take a look for you."

"Thanks, Bella, that's really sweet of you to offer. It's 3:45; you have to get going to Riley, right?"

"Yep," I answer, clutching my gym bag and heading to the door with him.

"So…Friday...dinner and a movie?"

"Sure, whatever you want." I wonder if I need to warn him about my dietary restrictions, but I decide against it. I can always order a salad. He doesn't need to know about my issues, at least not on the first date.

"I'll choose the restaurant, but you have to help me at least pick the movie category: horror, sci fi, action, chick flick-"

"You do chick flicks?" I ask, surprised.

"I'd do it on a first date," he admits.

I have to laugh at his candor. "So this is a once-in-a-lifetime offer for me?"

He laughs and says, "Just think, if things go _really_ well, it could be the last time in my life I ever make the offer to anyone!"

"Listen, you don't have to torture yourself, Connor. I like boy movies, too." Considering Charlie's been my most frequent movie date, I've come to tolerate and even enjoy a broad range of films.

"Phew. I was kind of excited to see Green Lantern."

"Perfect."

"Tell Ri 'hello and thank you' for me, will you?" he says with a sexy wink. Again, I have to wonder at my good fortune with the Biers brothers.

O)(O

"How's the soreness today?"

"Nothing a little Advil can't cure."

"No harm in that. You won't need it after another week or so," he assures. "Let's see that pull-up."

He's teasing me, because I'm still working on my first pull-up, which Riley's promised me I'll be able to achieve soon. Not today, it seems, as I fall short of the bar. "Getting closer," he comments. "All right, hop up on your ball…"

Now that I'm familiar with the routine, it's a little harder to push through the hour. I know what's coming around every turn. When Riley finally finishes stretching me, I'm eager to see if Edward's left me any messages.

I unlock my iPhone and scroll through quickly, searching for his name. Nothing. Then again, he was with Riley and then his math tutor for most of the afternoon. Maybe he'll need me later.

God, I am so pathetic.

**^EPOV^**

The door pulls open, and I'm greeted by a girl who looks like she cleaned out a Golfer's Warehouse. Madras plaid pants with white belt, a hot pink polo shirt, matching pink cap, and a flowery glove.

"Holy shit," I grin, taking her in. "Look at you!"

"I just went shopping for a fun glove. The saleslady convinced me that it's important to look the part, so…"

Her hand makes a sweeping motion from head to toe.

"You look great. Let's go."

As she pulls her door shut, I say, "Please tell me she didn't talk you into buying matching pink balls."

"Why, would that be bad?" she cringes.

I laugh out loud. "You're such a girl, Bella."

O)(O

"Here, hold these," I hand her my pitching wedge and 7-iron, "and I'll grab the balls."

"Why so many?" she asks, eyeing the basket I'm carrying in each hand.

"You'll see," I promise.

I walk her past the practice green and up to the range. "You're going to want to stretch out a little today," I say, showing her how to place the club behind her neck and onto her shoulders. I twist slowly, side to side, exhaling deeply. Soon, she mimics my motions, making an occasional groan.

"This should help loosen up your abs. Just go ahead and take a few of those practice chips like I've shown you before."

I remind her of a couple points but mostly just let her stretch out and warm up. After a while, I roll a ball out onto her mat. "Go ahead and hit that to the short yellow pole in the middle of the range. It's no farther than you were chipping before."

She misses the first one, but the second is dead on. I roll a new ball into place. "Again."

She hits the pole this time. "Damn, I'm a good teacher," I gloat.

"I think it's my new pants," she says.

"Well, something's working for you. Keep going. Take a practice swing before you hit each ball."

"Where are you going?" she asks, as I disappear from her view.

"I'm right behind you."

"You're making me nervous back there. How about you go right in front of me?"

"No offense, Bella, but it's a whole lot safer for me back here," I chuckle.

She pouts adorably but turns back to her mat. She takes a tentative swing and misses the ball. "I don't like you behind me," she complains.

"I'm not even watching you, Bella," I tell her, setting a ball sailing just to prove my point.

But I'm a liar. I'm looking at her, all right. At first, I convince myself I'm just watching her form, to make sure she's not developing any bad habits. But after twenty minutes of mostly staring, with a few chips mixed in for good measure, I finally admit it to myself. I'm totally checking out Bella's ass. And I like what I see.

**~BPOV~**

He claims he's not looking but still, I fret over his view. _Do I have panty lines? Am I jiggling? Shit, now I have a wedgie._ I know these pants are outrageous, but I couldn't resist, especially when I saw that I'd fit into the size 12.

I notice he hasn't hit a ball in a little while, so I spin quickly and totally catch him looking. _You are so busted, Edward Cullen._

"Your swing looks really good," he covers quickly.

What am I going to say? '_Stop checking out my ass'_?

"Here. Switch clubs with me," he instructs, handing me the seven iron.

"I don't know what to do with this one."

He chuckles lightly. "Same exact thing. Yellow pole."

He leans on his pitching wedge and waits patiently. Reluctantly, I turn back and take a swing. The ball sails over the yellow pole. "WOW!"

"Yeah, wow is right. Do it again, and don't do one thing differently."

I set myself up again and repeat the motion. Or so I think. This time, the ball shoots off the tip of the club and spins almost straight in front of me.

I hear Edward chuckle. "And now you see why I am staying back here."

I turn around to give him a dirty look, but god damn, he is so cute, I can't go through with it. Not only that, he's right. I could really hurt him, and that's the last thing I'd ever want to do.

O)(O

"I don't get it," I say, as he puts away the clubs. "I did exactly the same thing and the ball wouldn't go the right direction."

He calls from the bag room, "As soon as you know it's supposed to go farther, you take a different swing. It's human nature, Bella."

"Well, that sucks," I say miserably. Here I thought I had some kind of talent for the game.

"That's golf," he says, locking the door. "That's what makes it so challenging. If it were easy, it wouldn't be any fun."

"Interesting logic. So how's your new math tutor?"

"She's pretty good, actually. Way easier to understand than Bender. I think I'll be caught up by next week."

"And how about Psychology?"

"It's going fine. I've been using the note system you taught me, and I haven't had to go back and reread the chapters. It's saved me a ton of time."

"I'm glad," I tell him. "So, does that mean you have time to go to the football game this Saturday?" Real smooth segue there, Bella. He'd never suspect that you were dying to ask him from the very moment you woke up today.

"Actually, we're up at Bowdoin this weekend. I really hate that my travel schedule keeps me from so many of Emmett's games."

Me too. A whole weekend without Edward.

"Yeah, that's a shame." I can't shake the enormous sadness that settles over me, despite the fact that I have my first date ever with a really cute, sweet guy.

**^EPOV^**

"So I guess I'll see you in class tomorrow. You think maybe you'll wear the plaid pants?"

"Nah, these are just for you," she says.

I know she's teasing, but I can't help my response. I absolutely get a jolt out of thinking that maybe she's bought something just to please me. And please me she does.

"Lucky me," I muse.

O)(O

"You have an entire bookcase filled with trophies?"

"Does it sound like bragging? I can tone it down."

"Why should you? You've earned every one. So, tell me more about this corkboard wall. What kind of things are pinned up?"

Uh-oh. Of course, Bella would notice that I failed to disclose that important bit of information. It's not exactly something I'm proud of, but I guess the wall of shame needs to be an honest representation as well.

"Well, my high school class schedule is probably still there. My Holden acceptance letter. Pictures of our post-prom party…"

"Edward, you're blushing, so I know you've got something way more interesting on your wall."

"Mila Kunis Megan Fox Kristen Stewart Jessica Alba Sophie Sandolo Danica Patrick and Alyssa Milano."

At this moment in my short life, I really wish I were a better liar. Because I would've loved to have left out a couple of those girls, and I also would've loved to have added at least one blonde or redhead. But now, I've exposed my weakness.

"Was that so difficult?" she asks wryly. "You know all those girls belong in your paper."

Is it worth it for a grade? Exposing myself to Banner in this way? I'm not sure. "I'll think about it," I tell her honestly. It's the first time I've considered not taking her advice since our partnership began, and she looks mildly put off.

"Okay, do you have any other furniture in the room besides a bookcase?"

"Well, there's a bed." Duh.

"What does it look like?"

Oh, Bella, you are poking around today, aren't you? "It's a King."

"What? For just one person?"

"How do you know there's only been one person in my bed?" The words slip out before I can stop them.

She opens her mouth to speak, but apparently can't think of how to respond. Finally, "I don't, I guess."

And now she looks totally wounded. The truth is, I _have_ entertained the occasional company in my bed, but we don't need to go there. Hoping to divert her thinking, I offer, "Bella, the king gives me extra leg room. I'm pretty tall, in case you haven't noticed."

"I have," she answers immediately, her eyes shifting and locking into mine. "Look, Edward, it's certainly none of my business who's been in your bed. I was just trying to point out something that seemed to be missing from your outline."

_Oh, crap_. "Okay, thanks." Ugh, that wasn't the right response. "Let's switch."

She slides her paper over. "Mine's nowhere near as interesting."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that, Bella." I take a few minutes to look at her work and realize she's given only bare bones details.

"So, what's on the walls?"

"Off-white paint."

"Have many books?"

She shakes her head no. "A few, but I have a library card and I'm not afraid to use it."

"CD's?"

"iPod."

"Posters?"

"Nuh uh," she says evasively.

"Curtains?" I am getting desperate here. She's got to have curtains, right?

"My mother made the curtains. They have this lattice pattern, like you're looking through a garden fence. My bedroom was directly above the garden out front, Mom's pride and joy."

She gets wistful and I quickly redirect. "Okay. How about pictures in frames? Bulletin board? Makeup table? Jewelry box? Help me out here, Bella. I don't know much about girls' bedrooms."

"Apparently, you didn't need to. They all came to _your_ bed!"

_Harsh, Bella. _

**~BPOV~**

Whoa, there. Rein it in, big mouth. You don't get to be angry or jealous. Edward is not yours. And even if he were, whatever he did in the past is certainly none of your beeswax.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I had no right to say that."

"It's okay," he says. But as soon as he does, I can see that it was definitely not okay. I feel like crap. "Maybe we should just stop now."

I hang my head, because not being able to talk to Edward is the worst. And I know I've been petty, and I have to fix this.

"No, please go on," I implore him. "I'd like to hear whatever you have to say."

"Are you sure?" he asks wisely and cautiously.

"Yes, Edward. Always. Even if I'm acting like a bitch, you should still be honest with me."

He smiles, and even though he doesn't open his mouth, a smile is still a smile. He blows out a big breath and says, "You haven't really shown the reader anything personal. There must be something in your room that says, 'Bella lives here.'"

Damn him, he's pushing where I'm vulnerable yet again. I close my eyes to search my childhood bedroom again in my mind's eye. Everything I see reveals failure. Do I trust Edward enough to share this?

I open my eyes to the answer. Despite my crap attitude, his eyes are kind and encouraging. And after all, he named all his poster girls for me. I escape my misery for another second to picture Edward's wall of…wait a second, all those girls have something in common. Well, I'll be damned, Edward Cullen has a thing for brunettes!

Spurred on by this revelation, and by all the goodness that is Edward, I relax into my visual memory and pull up some details.

"When you first walk in, there's a full-length mirror on the left. My mom bought it for me on my ninth birthday so I could 'see what I was making of myself.' That's when I'd started gaining weight."

Edward sucks in a breath, but I continue.

"Just beyond that, there's a collage of family photos that I made in seventh grade. I only included the happy pictures, so none of the pictures go beyond 2001. I do own one trophy; it's from a fishing derby Dad entered us in when I was thirteen. We took first place with a three-pound trout, but honestly, all I did was watch him catch it and have my picture taken.

"Let's see…what else? Oh, there's my little shrine to Peter Gravely, the boy that I spent most of my spare high school moments drooling over. I'm not sure he even knew I was alive, but I made a scrapbook of every basketball game he played; complete with newspaper articles, ticket stubs, and a sweaty wristband he once threw out into the crowd after a game."

"Bella." A calm, quiet interruption to my increasingly out of control rant.

"Hmmm?"

"Stop for a second. Just take a breath."

"Why, is my patheticness getting to you, Edward?"

"I think it's getting to _you_. Come on, there must be something in your room that reminds you of your accomplishments, your talent? How about your skill as a teacher?"

His note from LeVon pops into my head, and immediately reminds me of my Happy File. I can't help but smile, thinking of the folder hidden away in my desk drawer at home, bright yellow highlighter-filled circle with black sharpie smiley face superimposed.

"That's better," he coaxes. "What are you seeing now?"

I am seeing a boy right in front of me who captures a little bit more of my heart every day.

**^EPOV^**

Maybe it's the fact that I'm not going to see her for a few days, or it might just be my paranoia over Bella's growing intimacy with Connor. Or perhaps it's the lingering memory of our strange hug that neither of us has acknowledged since.

Whatever the reason, I'm just a little more daring with Bella on the range today.

"This is much easier with belt loops, but we'll make do," I say from behind her, wrapping my fingers around her hips on both sides. "Before you even take the club in your hand today, I want you to really feel this. Cross your hands over your chest and close your eyes."

Thanks to my sensitivity training, I avoid saying, 'Spread your legs' but instead, "Step your right foot out a little more. Good. Okay, here we go."

I turn Bella's hips 90 degrees to the right, then swing her 180 degrees so that she's facing the target with her shoulders and hips.

"Okay, back to center again. Back…then through!" I whip her hips faster this time. She loses her balance. My grip tightens reflexively, locking her into place so she doesn't fall.

"Don't worry, Bella. I won't let you fall." As I say those words, I hope she understands how deeply I mean them.

She giggles nervously and repositions herself to try again.

"Open your eyes this time. Here we go. See where you are? Shoulders and zipper facing the target? Now, you try."

I'm hesitant to let go, and for an instant, I believe I see a look of disappointment cross her face as well. It's not for long, because her first turn requires adjustment. And I tell myself that's the only reason my hands are back on her so soon after letting go.

"Now, turn through it," I instruct, and she makes her turn, all 150 degrees of it. I'm happy to step in again and finish her hips to the target. "Here you are, hold that…"

I place my hands on her shoulders to square them off, and what I realize when I touch her is that she's a bundle of jangled up nerves. I try to coax down her hunched shoulders as I even them out, but she's holding all her tension right there. Tapping her shoulders lightly, I whisper, "Relax" near her ear.

She tips a little off balance and I quickly grasp her shoulders to right her.

"Sorry," she mumbles, embarrassed again.

"Just try to loosen up a little bit. Here," I say, smoothing small circles into her shoulder blades with my thumbs. "Breathe, Bella." She exhales, and I finally make some headway, getting her shoulders to lower and relax. "Better?"

**~BPOV~**

'Better' is a severe understatement. Edward's touch is at once the sweetest and the most torturous experience of my life. Every nerve ending in my body heightens and begs for the same attention my shoulders are receiving.

Good Lord, does he honestly believe touching me like that is going to _relax_ me?

When he speaks again, he's so close that I can feel his voice rumble through his chest and into my back. "Do you think it's safe for me to put a club in your hands?" he ends on a chuckle.

"Couldn't tell you," I reply honestly.

"I'm gonna risk it," he says, handing one of his clubs around my right side.

"Go ahead and grip that club the way I showed you. Okay, good. Now, we're just going to do the same exact thing as before."

And then the real fun begins. Edward's left arm comes around me first and he places his hand over mine. Then, he closes in and I feel his entire chest against my back. His right arm wraps around mine and he covers my right hand on the club with his. That's when I think things can't get any better.

Turns out, I'm wrong. Edward hooks his head over my left shoulder, because he has to put it somewhere, I suppose. Good thing he's holding me up, more or less, because my legs are useless. Then suddenly, he speaks into my ear.

"Let's go." And with that, he turns us both to the right and then we swing through the imaginary ball to our imaginary target.

Holding us in our picture-perfect pose at the end, he asks, "How was that?"

Gah, unghh, mmmmm, perfection. _I didn't quite get that; could you show me three thousand more times?_

O)(O

Connor emails me his paper early Thursday afternoon. I hop into the library between classes and log into my account so I can read and respond more efficiently than using my phone. I want to have an empty plate in case Edward needs me before leaving tomorrow.

My inner doubter reminds me that I'm being pathetic. I tell her to fuck off, and it feels marvelous.

I block out Edward and switch gears to Connor, who deserves my complete attention. Opening the attachment, I half snort to myself when I see that the topic of his paper is 'How to Motivate Employees Using an Effective Rewards System'. Edward could write the book on that one.

_Wear a new sweater and I'll wrap my arms around you. _

_Put up with my cranky mood and I'll show you my eight-pack._

_Join me at the range and I'll press myself up behind you…_

Crap. Connor. Focus. The paper has loads of good ideas, not necessarily well articulated or organized. I send him a message with a few suggestions for rewriting, not really knowing at this point how hard he's willing to work to improve. I hope I haven't discouraged him.

Seconds later, just as I was about ready to log off, I receive an alert for an incoming message.

**From:** Connor Biers  
><strong>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Motivation Paper  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 10/20/11 2:47 PM

_Bella,_

_Wow, okay, lots of work ahead for me. I hope I still have time for our date! __JK- I appreciate your edits and comments. C u tomorrow-_

_CMB_

****From:** Bella Swan  
>To:<strong> Connor Biers  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Motivation Paper  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 10/20/11 2:53 PM

_CMB-_

_What's the M for? __Mine's Marie!_

_IMS_

****From:** Connor Biers  
>To:<strong> Bella Swan  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Motivation Paper  
><strong>Sent:<strong> Thursday, 10/20/11 2:54 PM

_Tell ya tomorrow!_

**^EPOV^**

"Isn't that your friend over there?" Emily points out Bella at one of the computer carrels, as we walk through toward the Loud Room, as I like to call it.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna say a quick hello, okay?"

"Sure," says my mousy tutor, the unspoken rest of the sentence being, 'It's your money.' "I'll go get us a spot."

I'm tempted to walk up behind Bella and surprise her, but I don't want to spook her and undo any of the progress we've made. I'm still buzzing with happiness from this morning's session at the range. I carefully approach her so that she sees me appear above the computer screen that's absorbing her attention.

"Fancy meeting you here," I smile.

She blushes four different shades of red and quickly closes out of her program. She tries to appear innocent, but Bella's just been caught red-handed doing something. I don't think you can get porn on the computers at the library, so I doubt that's it.

I resist the urge to pry or even tease her, ever protective of this new paradigm between us. The one where I'm allowed to touch her.

"Edward, hey. What's up?"

"I've got Emily now."

"Oh, shit, is it 3 already? I've got to run. See you in the morning," she says over her shoulder, rushing out.

Not that I would've snooped, but she's closed out of everything and logged off.

O)(O

I promised myself I wouldn't ask, but I can't seem to stop picturing that look on Bella's face when I caught her unaware at the library. If it wasn't porn, it had to be Connor. And I just can't help myself. I don't even wait until after class. I drop my little bomb the second she turns in her paper and slides into the seat next to me.

"So, besides the football game, any exciting plans for the weekend?"

I see the wheels turning, and that same guilty, embarrassed look crosses her face. Damn, it's bad if she can't decide whether to be honest with me. I decide to give her a hand with the heavy lifting.

"Hot date?" I try casually, hoping she won't hear what I'm feeling.

"I'm not sure yet," she answers.

"You're not sure if you have a date, or you're not sure if he's hot?"

"No, I do have a date, and he's definitely hot. But I don't know if it'll be a hot date."

_Fuck. Wrong answers_. I try to pretend cheeriness I definitely don't feel. "Hey, good for you, Bella. Sounds like all the makings of a hot date to me."

She shrugs and quickly changes the subject. "So, you all caught up for the weekend?"

"Yes, I'm no longer drowning in Pre-Calc and I don't have another Psych exam until next week."

"That's great, Edward."

"Okay, guys. Here we go. Today we're going to be writing about our feelings."

A large collective groan rumbles through the classroom. Professor Banner laughs at us. "And that is exactly why we all need to practice."

O)(O

I board the bus with a grapefruit-sized pit in my stomach. Right away, Jasper starts in.

"What did she do this time?" he asks.

"Who?"

"You know who."

"Damn, Jas. I hate it when you do your Sphinx impersonation. Speak English."

"Okay. Bella."

"Why does this have to be about Bella? I'm just not looking forward to traveling again. This is getting old. Missing Emmett's games, sleeping in hotels, being stuck with your sorry ass for 48 hours straight!"

"Playing in the NESCAC qualifier, collecting business cards from agents, fending off Cullen's Coochies… pretty freaking terrible, if you ask me."

"Whoa! Cullen's Coochies? What the fuck is that?"

"You really don't know?" He regards me incredulously. "That's your fan base!"

"I seriously have fans who refer to themselves as 'coochies'?"

"Yeah, isn't it a beautiful thing?" he grins. "Your girl Britney started a blog."

"Ughh! Shoot me now."

"I wouldn't worry. From what I've read, she was pretty complimentary of your skills."

"You _read_ it? Fuck, Jas. What if Bella finds out?"

"For crying out loud, Edward. Why don't you just admit that you like her?" he asks simply, as if it would solve anything.

"What good would that do?"

"Well, Hallelujah! At least you didn't deny it this time."

"Fine. I like her."

He turns in his seat to face me. "So, what are you waiting for? Make your move!"

I can't explain this whole weird vibe between us and her reluctance to being touched and the difficulty of our conversations lately. So I give him the easy answer. "She's going out with someone else tonight."

"What? How could you let that happen? Who is he?"

"Thanks, Jas," I say miserably. "That is really helping."

"Sorry, man. I just don't get it. Alice seems to think that Bella's got it bad for you."

"She does?" He has finally said something that actually does make me feel better.

"She does, and I have to warn you, she's freaky accurate with stuff like this."

"Well, I can't do anything about it until Sunday anyways."

"The hell you can't. Got text?"

"What are you saying? That I should pester her all weekend with text messages?"

"Not pester, young grasshopper. Selectively message. Keep her mind where it should be. On you."

"That's kind of brilliant, Jas."

"That's why I'm number one," he says cockily. And with that, Jasper pops his earbuds in and effectively ends our conversation.

I spend the rest of the bus trip plotting my selective messages.

**~BPOV~**

I feel my phone vibrate and fish it out of my gym bag.

_B- don't let Riley beat you up too badly today. Watch out if he pulls out the red ball. ~E_

Okay, I'll bite.

_E-what's the red ball? b_

_A special treat for your gluteal muscles_.

Oh great. Edward's talking to me about my ass.

_Thanks for the heads up (butts up?) b_

_LOL. Work hard, stretch harder. Advil up. All will be well. E_

_Thanks, will do. b_

O)(O

"Edward warned me about this," I confess as Riley rolls the red ball my direction.

"Edward loves my red ball," Riley mock pouts.

"That's not what he told me," I respond, throwing my friend right under the bus.

"Well, he loves what it does for his ass," Riley contends.

Mmm, so do I, my little personal trainer. So do I.

As Riley works me over with the big red ball, I focus on Edward standing behind me at the range. Every gluteus squeeze is motivated by the desire to give Edward something nice to look at. Is it possible that one day, I might even stand in front of him _hoping_ that he's checking out my ass? Hah, doubtful, Bella Swan.

O)(O

"All right, Swan, get out of here. Connor said he'd kill me if I kept you over tonight."

"I guess there are some advantages to dating the trainer's little brother."

"Just remember, Bella, our deal was for tutoring. Dating hours don't count," Riley says with a chuckle.

"Gee, thanks for reminding me I'm not a prostitute."

"Any time. See you Monday. Have fun."

O)(O

Rosalie insists on answering the door when Connor knocks. She's convinced my outfit says, 'I'm hot and I know it,' without saying, 'I'm easy and I want _you_ to know it.' She's even lent me her kick ass black boots "that make everything you wear ten degrees hotter", and they anchor my black tights and long flowy lavender top. I feel casual and confident.

Connor is wearing his usual jeans and flip flops, but he's clearly made an effort with his untucked, rolled- sleeve, blue-striped Oxford shirt. "You must be Rose," he says politely, shaking her hand. "Connor Biers."

He twists his head around Rose and whistles when he lays eyes on me. "Hey, teach. You clean up good."

Rose turns and mouths a clandestine 'YUM'.

"Thanks, Connor. You like nice, too."

"We should probably go. We have a 7 pm reservation at Harvest."

"Harvest?" Rose swoons. "They have fantastic microgreens there!"

"Ugh, Rose, only you would get excited about microgreens!"

Connor chuckles at our banter. "You want to grab a sweater in case it gets chilly later?"

"Oh, and Bella, don't forget your pepper spray," Rose says loud enough for the entire hallway to hear.

I pat my purse lovingly and loop my sweater over my arm. "All set."

Connor pales just a little, and I lead him out the door. "'Night Rose."

"Have fun, B. Call me if you need me."

Cripes, I wish she'd stop already. It's like having my very own female version of Charlie as my roommate.

O)(O

"So your roommate's pretty protective…"

"I had a bad experience our first week at school. She's just watching out for me."

"It's good to have people watching out for you."

"Mmm. Do I need to be scared of you?"

"Nah, I'm basically harmless. Besides, Riley would totally kick my ass if I did anything to hurt you."

"I know," I smiled.

Connor is sweet and attentive at dinner, and he doesn't ridicule my menu choices. I wonder how much Riley's told him about me, but I don't really mind. We laugh a lot, and it's comfortable. He tells me about his career plans in Information Technology Project Planning, which I pretend to understand. "It's a combination of people management and computer skills," he explains.

"Then it sounds like you'll be very successful."

"Thanks, Bella. I have no problem seeing what needs to be done and how to get people to do the work. I just get stuck sometimes trying to write it down. Unfortunately, documentation is a big deal in my field, as are management reports, so I really need to overcome the writing obstacle."

"Ever try speaking into a digital recorder before you write?"

"No."

"You express yourself really well when you're speaking, so that might help you. Try it some time."

He's paid for our movie tickets and we're at the refreshments counter. "What can I get you?" he offers.

"Maybe just a bottle of water?"

"That's it? No popcorn, milk duds, sour patch kids?"

"No thanks, Connor. I'm good."

I love being at the movie with Connor. He laughs out loud throughout the movie, and he keeps offering me his popcorn, though I refuse each time.

"So what else do you have planned for the weekend?" he asks as we near my door.

"I'm going to the football game tomorrow with Rose and my friend Alice." I neglect to invite him to join us. Something feels disloyal about asking Connor to sit in Emmett's personal cheering section. "What about you?"

"I have a paper to rewrite thanks to my overzealous tutor."

I am probably blushing mightily. "Sorry about that, Connor."

"Don't be. I'm just teasing so I can watch you blush. I count on you to push me to do better."

"Well, here we are," I say, realizing this could become the first awkward moment we've had. I'm nervous suddenly, not having ever done this before.

As usual, Connor takes the lead, "Bella, thanks for coming out with me tonight. I had a really nice time with you."

"I did too, Connor. Thanks for everything."

"So, would you feel the need to bring out the pepper spray if I kiss you now?"

"No," I smile at his roundabout way of asking.

Keeping both of his blue eyes on mine, Connor leans in and gives me a very sweet closed-mouth kiss on the lips. He pulls back and smiles.

"G'night, Bella. I'll see you on Tuesday."

**^EPOV^**

I don't expect her to answer my message tonight. I just want it to be the last thing she sees before she goes to bed:

_Bella- I hope your date was everything you wanted it to be. And I'm sure Connor was a gentleman, but I'd still love to know you made it home safely. Good night. E_

Her response at 11:30 surprises me:

_E- You are too sweet. The date was nice and I'm back safe and sound. G'night. b_

"So?" Jasper asks, catching me reading her text.

"She's back safe and sound. Said it was 'nice'."

"Okay, so you can stop thinking about her now. Pick a girl, any girl."

I have to admit, I do feel like some female companionship right now. I raise my bottle of water in the general direction of a cute little brunette across the crowded room.

She smiles. I wave. She and her friend sit down next to us. We talk. She drinks. We talk some more. We dance. She drinks. I talk. She listens. She drinks. We dance.

"You are even cuter in person," she says. So, she knows who I am. Could be that all of us are clustered together in here and some of the guys are wearing their Holden caps.

"So are you," I say inanely. She giggles.

She snuggles in closer to me on the dance floor and I can feel her grinding against my leg. While the companionship has been nice, I am not going to sleep with this girl.

"Listen, Julia. I've really enjoyed your company tonight. I have an early match tomorrow, so I'm going to head back to my room. Maybe I'll see you again tomorrow night?"

"You can count on it, Gorgeous."

"Jas, I'm turning in."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, buddy."

O)(O

_Em- Great game! Sorry I couldn't be there for your touchdowns, man. Congrats on MVP! ~E_

_Ed- Thanks. Going out to celebrate with Rosie, Alice, and Bella. How'd your match go today? ~Em_

_I played well. All the putts dropped for me. Going into tomorrow in first place. Have fun. -E_

_Edward- First place, WOW! Congrats! Emmett just told me. Hope tomorrow goes even better for you. –Bella_

_B- Thanks for the encouragement. I'll try to remember everything you've taught me. ;) E_

_Okay, I'll check in with you tomorrow and see how it went. Or text me after you win! b_

After the match, everyone piles into Byrnes Pub. I feel like I'm the only one here not imbibing alcohol, but it's a situation to which I've become accustomed. When Julia finds me and settles into my lap, I'm glad I'm sober.

We mess around a little and Jas looks on approvingly. He's completely chaste when not with Alice, but he still seems to think that 'a good fuck will defray my edges', despite how badly it backfired last time. I'm not about to do that again, but I do allow Julia to heal some wounds. There's no mistaking my true desires; I long for Bella.

Julia's lips are insistent on mine and I finally give in. I pull her into the corner so the whole team doesn't bear witness to our display. She's warm and pretty and oh, so willing. I think my first place finish has multiplied her libido. She unbuttons the top few buttons of her shirt, inviting me in to play. I happily oblige, allowing my fingers to brush along her bra while we kiss. She slides down my body, placing herself on her knees before me.

I remind myself about Cullen's Coochies and my unfortunate fame. This is not some anonymous encounter. Chances are, everything we do-and likely an exaggerated version at that- is going to wind up on the internet later tonight. My head screams 'No, No, NO!' and I pull her up by her elbows before things go any further.

"Hey, you're really sweet," I tell her. "I don't want you on your knees."

"But I really want to, Edward. I want you."

"Julia, you're great, and I've enjoyed this immensely, but I really need to go now."

O)(O

_B- You up? I'm jittery. Any last minute advice? -E_

I'm not really counting on her for serious golf advice at 9 am on Sunday. Part of me is doing what Jas suggested- keeping me on her mind- and part of me just needs her to check in with me. For all I know, she's sound asleep.

Two seconds later, my phone rings.

"Hey."

I close my eyes and breathe deeply into her voice. "Hey."

"What's going on there?"

"First place is a tough place to start on Sunday."

"You're out ahead of Jasper this time, eh?" I can hear her smile through the phone line.

"Yeah. I putted great yesterday."

"You should do that again."

"Gee thanks," I laugh at her terrible unhelpful advice.

"Edward, you got this."

"You think so?" I sigh.

"I have a very good feeling. Call me, okay? I want to be, like, the 380th person who knows you won!"

"Right, Bella. Thanks for calling."

O)(O

I start to fantasize about the phone call, and how great it will feel to tell her I've come in first and qualified for the NESCAC tournament in two weeks. It becomes my driving force, the power behind every long drive, the accuracy of every chip, and the precision of each putt. There's no way for me to gauge how the rest of the field has played in front of me, but at the end of eighteen, I've posted my personal best for two days.

_Bella- It's official. I WON!_

_E- OMG OMG OMG. AMAZING! Knew you could do it! b_

_B- Team bus pulling out. I'll call when we get back to school. –E_

O)(O

"Hey, we're back."

"I'll be right there."

Three minutes later, she's in my room, asking to see my trophy. Jas is watching us with amusement from his bed, where he is attempting unsuccessfully to read his Chemistry book.

"It doesn't work that way. This was just a qualifier. Two weeks is the big trophy."

"Edward, I'm so happy for you!"

We recreate our hug, but this time, it's in fast motion. And this time, instead of standing by passively, Bella wraps her arms around my waist. I answer by pulling her into my chest and rocking her back and forth. I'm feeling pretty sappy so I have to be careful what I say in this vulnerable moment. After all, she's dating someone else. But she's still my friend.

"I couldn't wait to tell you."


	9. Face Your Fears

**10/24/2011**

**~BPOV~**

'_Thank you for sharing your happy file and some difficult truths. Your writing is superb as always, your honesty earns you the A.'_

Wordlessly, I trade papers with Edward after we've both read our own comments. I smile at the feedback on Edward's paper: _'Great descriptors, very colorful, especially the Wall of Shame. BTW, I Googled your girls, got me in a little trouble with the Mrs., but so worth it! A'_

I lean in close to return Edward's paper and whisper, "I think Banner has a little man crush on you." Edward blushes and quickly packs away his paper.

"Take a look at some of the better passages from this week's essays. My favorite, I confess, was the description of wading through the crumpled up shirts and dirty boxers to get from the bed to the door. What I really like about your papers is that you all seem to be getting more comfortable sharing. The more honest you can afford to be, the better your writing."

O)(O

"In honor of Halloween, I'd like you to spend time this week thinking about facing your fears. I leave it to you whether you want to write about a fear you've conquered or one you've simply encountered. Either one can earn you a good grade, provided you include a heavy dose of honesty and feelings. Ick, I know. 700 words, plenty of room to describe your sweaty palms and prickly skin. See you Wednesday."

"That's a tough one, don't you think?" I feel like I'm afraid of so much, how will I pick just one thing?

"Yeah. I might need to work on that tomorrow morning," Edward says.

"Putting or chipping?"

He smiles broadly. "Might be time for the driver."

O)(O

**^EPOV^**

I'm just walking out of the gym when I get Emmett's text:

_Ed- Gil wants to ask Bella out. What's her relationship status? –Em_

Fucking Gil Brophy, studly quarterback, aka the Holden Heartthrob, wants to ask out _my_ Bella?

_Em- What am I- Facebook? Does Gil know Bella's only a freshman? –E_

_Yeah, bro. He's well aware. He met her Saturday night. She looked totally hot, by the way. So what's her deal?_

_Em-Why don't you ask Rose? She's her best friend._

_Rosie told me to ask you._

That's weird. Why would Rose-? Why, that little blonde interloper. She's tossing me a life preserver. Or beating me over the head with a hammer. Either way, I read her message loud and clear. THE SHARKS ARE CIRCLING! PULL THE GIRL FROM THE OCEAN!

_Em- Tell Gil to hold off, and tell Rose thanks. –E_

O)(O

Now that I'm here, I have no idea what I'm going to say. And it's not as if I can tell her I was in the neighborhood; Riley's PT office is all the way on the other side of campus. I pace madly and literally watch the second hand tick off the final three minutes of her hour. I'm sure the back of my head looks like a tornado's been through my hair where I've been rubbing and pulling, but it's the least of my worries. Finally, Riley opens the door and a surprised Bella pushes through.

For a moment, I'm so nervous and she's so shocked, I fail to notice what quickly becomes apparent. Bella has gotten herself some new workout clothes.

"Edward?" Her question shakes me out of my compression-shorts-induced trance. "What are you doing here?"

Riley jumps in, "Hey big boy, you want to go an extra round with me?"

Ignoring Riley completely, "Bella, sorry, uh…" _Think. Fuck._ The image of the circling sharks pops back menacingly and makes clear thinking even more difficult.

She looks concerned now. Her gym bag slides to the floor and she steps in front of me, centering me. "What is it?"

Hand on neck. Deep exhale. "I wanted to talk to you about my essay." _Thank Christ, I've said something intelligible._

"What? Now?" she asks, confused but not angry.

"Yeah. Sorry." I can't seem to stop apologizing, and I don't even know why. Maybe because I'm acting like a fucking lunatic.

"Will you stop apologizing? Come on, let's walk," Bella says, taking charge because I'm clearly incapable of coherency. "Riley, thanks. See you Friday?"

"Bye, kids," he smiles, shaking his head.

**~BPOV~**

At first, I was truly scared. Edward looked totally normal this morning in class. Well, not normal for a _normal_ boy, 'cause he's all smoldery and adorable and I even got him to blush. But normal for Edward.

And now, he's mussed and anxious and awkward and almost desperate.

Without asking, he immediately takes my gym bag off my shoulder and throws it effortlessly over his own. He's still acting twitchy and won't make eye contact.

He clears his throat and I look sideways in anticipation. "So how was your workout?"

"Come on, Edward. You didn't come all this way to discuss my exercise routine."

His façade falls away and he admits, "No. I didn't."

He stops dead and turns to me, so I do the same. "I figured out what I want to write about. Well, not really _want_, but _should_. I mean, you know, what scares me."

"Okay?" I'm trying to be patient, but the pace of this conversation is maddening.

"Shit, this is harder than I thought it would be." He goes to rub the back of his neck but my bag gets in the way. I'd love to pull the words out of his brain for him, but they're his to say, whatever this is.

"Bella, I'm afraid I may have missed my chance…with you."

I did not see that one coming. On so many levels. I mean, WTF? I slowly rerun his words through my brain, and the first thought I have is _'Thank God Riley got my heart rate back down to resting.' _

Edward looks like a lost little boy. He doesn't know what to do with his hands or where to focus his eyes. "I'm dying here," he says. "Would you please say something?"

"You want a chance with _me_?" I asked incredulously.

He drops the bag off his shoulder and I get the feeling that he's just let down his last shield. Honest Ed is about to storm the castle. He nods hopefully. "Yes."

My heart soars, and a wild fluttering takes over my chest cavity. But the euphoria is pushed aside by a burning question that taints everything. "What did you mean when you said you may have _missed_ your chance?" Nothing that he's said yet explains his urgent mission.

Clearly, this hits a nerve. Edward resumes his squirminess. "All these other guys are coming out of the woodwork, and-"

"Other guys? I had one date."

"That's one more than you've had with me."

I don't insult us both by stating the obvious- he's never exactly asked.

**^EPOV^**

Mercifully, she doesn't point out that I've never asked. While I'm being honest with her, I decide I better mention what I've chosen unilaterally she should pass up. "And there are other guys who are interested."

"Like who?" she says, disbelievingly.

"Like Gil Brophy."

"Gil? Seriously?" She's surprised, but downright happy, and I instantly rethink my answer to Emmett. Who the hell am I to stand in her way if the hottest guy at Holden wants to ask her out?

"Seriously. Bella, you have no idea how attractive you are, do you?"

She scoffs and makes a derisive, "Pshhhh" sound to go with her eye roll.

"Trust me," I say sourly, the truth of it curdling around my insides. I feel the whole thing slipping away, and I'm proving my own point.

"I'm a work in progress," she finally answers.

"Well, your work is getting some serious notice. And you know what? You deserve it. You should enjoy the attention and explore your options."

_What am I saying? Jesus, where the hell did I put my balls? _"But while you do that, Bella, I'm asking you to please give me a chance, too."

"I would love to go out on a date with you, Edward," she smiles beautifully.

"That's awesome. So how about Friday night?"

"Sure," she says.

"And Saturday night?"

She giggles."You don't want to see how Friday goes first before you lock yourself in?"

"Nope. I'm traveling again in two weeks, so I'll have to leave you to the wolves. I need you to know what you'll be missing."

"Now _I'm _scared."

"You should probably be very scared." I pick up her bag again and we start to walk. Despite the extra weight, I feel 100 pounds lighter on the way back.

"So, is this really the topic for your essay?" she asks, slightly panicked.

"Actually, I'm seriously considering it. Banner did say to be super honest. I could get an 'A' and two great dates out of this assignment."

**~BPOV~**

I hold my shit together the whole walk home. I don't jump up and down or squee with girlie glee. The second the door closes behind me, I hop onto my bed, roll onto my back, and kick my legs in the air in silent but exuberant celebration.

And then I notice that Rose is at her desk watching the whole scene. "You want to tell me what your scary little bug-stuck-on-its-back dance is all about?"

"Oh, just that Edward asked me to go out with him this weekend. Actually, kind of _all_ weekend." I jump up off my bed and meet Rose halfway across the floor, where she's already busily bouncing on my behalf. "Oh! My! God!"

We exhaust ourselves, then Rose pulls me over to her bed and sits cross-legged in front of me. "What do you think made him decide to ask you after all this time?" she asks.

"I think it might be my super hot new body! Or that he couldn't stand to be away from me last weekend. But it might also be that my date with Connor was driving him nuts."

"Or D, all of the above," Rose guesses. "So, what's the plan?"

"No idea. He asked me for Friday. Then he asked me for Saturday."

"And you said yes to both? What if Connor asks you out again?"

I burst out laughing. "I have no idea what I'm doing! Nothing like this has ever happened to me before!"

"Well, honey," she says with the tone of a mother teaching her 6-year-old how to tie her shoes, "I think you're going to have to learn how to use the calendar feature on your phone! This is how it all begins. Men are like dogs. They all wait for the first dog to piss on the fire hydrant so they know there are no hidden hornets' nests. After that, the next one sniffs and figures, if it was good enough for him, I guess I'll go for it, too."

"So you're saying I'm the fire hydrant they're all pissing on?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. You're going to need more clothes. And your own hot boots."

O)(O

"You still need the driver, even though you've already figured out your topic?"

"Yes. Driving today, chipping and putting on Thursday. And in the middle, team practices on the course. It's a perfect week."

With a perfect week end.

"So what do I do while you're driving?"

A grin opens across his face. "You're hitting the 3-Wood. Here." He hands me both clubs and pulls out two buckets of balls, and we take our familiar walk to the range.

"Why isn't anyone else ever here?"

"It's closed. Eli gave me a key to the bag room and told me to come and go as I please."

"How come?"

"I gave him 30 more yards on his drive back in August," he says with a twinkle in his eye.

"This kid _could_ sell ice to Eskimos," I say admiringly. He shrugs off my compliment.

We do our stretching routine. Once again, I'm disappointed that I have to stand in front of Edward, because I'd so much rather be looking at him than the other way around.

"You should know, I don't usually do this, Bella. It's really awful technique to just open up with the driver."

"Then why _are_ you?" I ask, turning to watch him.

He keeps swinging the club at shoulder level, like a baseball bat, as he answers me, "I woke up feeling really good today, and I need to hit some big balls." With that, he places a ball on the rubber tee, takes one more practice swing, and proceeds to zing the ball straight ahead to the far boundary of the range.

He's holding that graceful pose and his chest and arms are all flexed and he's smiling brilliantly after the ball. I wish to God I had a camera right now. I would take this picture and blow it up and put it up right over my _Water for Elephants_ poster on the back of my bedroom door at home. Rob would understand, and Reese doesn't get a vote; she ruined the movie.

"You know, you look really happy right now," I tell him.

**^EPOV^**

"Let's get you started," I say. "Fire a ball up on the tee for me."

This process holds a high entertainment value. She's trying to figure out how to bend over without giving me a show back here. I don't even pretend I'm not watching.

"Go ahead and take your practice swing." She's a little stiff, but I see she's making the effort to turn.

"Okay, address the ball, and go for it." She takes her stance, backswing, and off she goes. The ball pops up and flies about forty yards, but dead straight.

"Good contact. Now this time, don't be afraid to trust that turn."

She makes the same motion again, same result.

"You leave me no choice, Bella," I warn, setting my driver into the stand. I scoot up close behind her and wrap myself around her without hesitation. "Remember this?" I ask, turning her away, then back.

"Oh, I remember this all right. Are you sure this doesn't count as our first date, Edward?" she teases.

"Silly Bella, when you're on a date with me, you'll know it," I promise.

O)(O

"So, are you not answering because you don't want to talk about it? We can wait till peer review if you want."

"I guess I haven't really decided which of my debilitating fears to expose," she admits ruefully.

"Want me to help you narrow it down?" I suggest.

"I already have a feeling what you'd choose, Mr. Honesty."

"Cool, I'm already in your head. That's going to make this dating thing so much more fun."

O)(O

"So what does the rest of your day look like?"

"I have Connor at 3."

"Another date?" Sheesh, this guy moves quickly.

She rolls her eyes. "Well, it would be a supremely boring date in the Library."

"I'll be watching you. I've got Emily then." I give her the 'Eyes on You' fingers, pointing my index and middle fingers first at my eyes, then hers.

"Maybe you should be watching your math book instead."

"Ouch. Later, Bella." If this had been a date, I wouldn't have just left her at her door without planting a kiss somewhere in the vicinity of her mouth.

**~BPOV~**

Edward and Emily have staked out a table at the edge so that Edward has a view of the entire room. I wave and smile as Connor and I take a seat with our backs to them, as far away as possible.

"Before we get down to work, are you busy Saturday night?"

"Actually, I am," I tell him.

"How about Friday?" Now I see the genius of Edward's plan asking me out both nights. He's killed the weekend for Connor.

"Sorry."

"Is it the other guy?" he asks. Fair question.

"Yeah," I admit. "I think you woke him up."

"Sucks for me," Connor says. "How about Sunday brunch?"

"Brunch?"

"I'll take what I can get. I want to see you again."

The problem is, Edward has a match at that time. And not only do I want to be there for him, I don't want him distracted by thoughts of me with another guy. So even though we don't officially have a date at that time, Edward trumps Connor again. "I'm sorry, Connor. That's not a good time either. Maybe we should try for another weekend."

He looks heartened by the fact that I left a door open. "I guess I better book you now for next Saturday. Your dance card fills up quickly."

My head spins with this outlandish new development in my life. Juggling two men. "That sounds great. Thanks, Connor."

"Thank _you_, teach. Now, about this essay on the Expectancy Theory…"

O)(O

I'm pretty sure I could write a convincing essay on my deathly fear of bees, and I might even pull in a B+. But part of me is ready to confess my new self-discovery, and this is as good a time and as safe a place as any. I produce my outline, knowing that tomorrow's discussion with Edward is sure to be intimate.

O)(O

"Bella, I'm not sure I really understand what you're laying out here in your outline."

"This may sound weird, but I figured out something when I started working with Rose to try to lose weight in earnest. I was actually afraid of being noticed, especially by boys. That's why I built up the layer of fat all around me in the first place. So, as I work it off, I'm facing my fear of really being seen."

"I get your point, but isn't it kind of…great to have all these guys vying for your affection?"

"Because of the way I look all of a sudden? I'm not really sure. I realize it's hypocritical to be working so hard to lose weight and then to resent that people are interested in me because of it."

Suddenly, his eyebrows lift and his eyes pop open, "Bella, are you saying _I'm_ one of those guys?"

I'd so love not to feel that way, but he only asked me out after I lost 25 pounds. "I've known you for almost two months, and…"

He looks away, and I notice his fingers are curling around his notebook with unexpressed anger.

**^EPOV^**

"If that's how you really feel, you probably should've turned me down." I actually have a sharp pain in my gut as I say this.

"Edward-"

"I mean, I'm the worst of the bunch, aren't I? I'm the only one who truly _did_ see you before and I didn't make a move until now."

I would really love to get out of my seat right now and get the hell out of this room, but that is simply not an option. I'm trapped here for a full hour of peer review, and fuck, aren't we going to have a great time when we get to my outline. Yes, I get to expose how scared I was that Bella would reject me.

"What am I supposed to think, Edward?" she asks quietly.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe that we were getting to know each other, that I'm not the kind of guy who takes these things lightly. Bella, how many girls have you seen me with since we've been here?"

Right now, I know I'm being a total hypocrite, because I've been with other girls on the road. _Not that_ _those girls were offering what I hope to find with Bella._ But Bella doesn't know this. _Unless she's been trolling the Cullen's Coochies blog_, a nagging voice squawks back at me.

"None," she admits softly. Now her misery matches mine. And the worst part is, deep down I suspect she might just be right about me. After all, it took a little blue sweater to cut through the fog. And here I sit, having the nerve to make her feel like shit about having me pegged for a shallow creep.

"Are we done with yours now?" Not that I'm dying to get to mine, but it seems like changing the subject would be a damn fine idea.

"Yeah. I think this dead horse is sufficiently beaten."

"Don't put your whip away quite yet," I say, twisting my notebook around to her desk.

Bella pulls it in and starts reading my true confessions. How I felt us growing closer through class and through our time spent together on the putting green and at the driving range. My discovery of her discomfort of physical contact, with me specifically. How I finally deciphered my feelings, only to learn that she'd already committed to going out with someone else. And most embarrassingly, how my fear of not exploring a relationship with Bella became greater than my fear of rejection. Concluding with how elated I'd been when she'd accepted my invitation.

I can't bear to watch, so I lay down across my desk and will the painful hour to end. And I wouldn't have raised my head again if I hadn't detected her sniffles. "Oh, Bella. _Shit._"

In a complete reversal, Bella's head is now down on her desk, framed by her folded arms. She is shaking and mewling quietly, like a wounded kitten, I observe grimly. A quick look at my watch tells me we've got another five minutes trapped in this room.

"See you all Friday," Banner says abruptly. He shoots me a look of concern before filing out of the room with everyone else, tactfully leaving us in privacy to work this out.

I put my mouth near her ear and I say, "Bella, class is over. Let's get out of here."

She shakes her head side to side and stays planted. I scoot my chair closer to hers and put my arm around her shoulders very tentatively, like one might approach a wild animal. My touch sets her off and I pull back instantly.

God, I really hate it when she won't let me help.

After a few minutes, she calms herself and tips her head to the side. "I had no right saying those things to you, Edward. You've never been anything but a true friend to me."

"I don't blame you for feeling that way, Bella. To tell you the truth, it took me way too long to realize how hot you are."

"Maybe because _hot_ me was buried under 25 pounds of _fat_ me?"

I scooch down in my seat and lay my head down on my arm next to her so I can meet her eye to eye. "Still, Bella, it didn't take me long to see the _real_ you. And I hope you realize _that's_ the girl I finally got up the courage to ask out."

"Okay." A small but true smile graces her lips. "Can we go now?"

"Hell yes." I give Professor Banner an appreciative nod as we slip past him outside the doorway, and he answers with a knowing wink. Dude to dude. Bella's man crush comment messes with my head momentarily, but I shake it off.

**~BPOV~**

I'm wiped out after the intensity of our little peer review/confessional. I feel slightly guilty taking a nap while Edward is working out with Riley, but I need to reload before attacking my paper. Rose wakes me for dinner and a brisk walk, preaching about exercise being the perfect antidote to sleepiness.

"What happened to you? I've never seen you take a nap before."

"Ugh, I had a meltdown in Comp Sem. I accused Edward of only being interested in me for my new body."

Rose stops walking and doubles over with laughter.

"How is that funny?" Sometimes I do not get my roommate at all.

"Do you even _hear_ yourself? A gorgeous guy who you've had a massive crush on for six weeks finally asks you out, and you are upset because he wants you for the body you've been killing yourself to achieve?"

I bristle at her ridicule. "I guess I would've wanted him to want me for who I am inside," I pout.

"So sharing his most sacred activity with you twice a week means nothing to you?"

I cross my arms and frown so she can see that I am highly disgruntled. "Those aren't dates. He only asked me out now because he heard other people were interested," I argue, though I'm hoping Rose will ultimately convince me I'm just being silly.

"Bella, did it ever occur to you that maybe your insides are changing because of your outside, and your new confidence is downright attractive?"

No, that had not occurred to me.

"Well, lookie there. She's speechless! Walk, Swan!"

O)(O

As Edward and I share our peaceful activity, I reflect on Rose's observation. The fact that Edward chooses to do this with me says more about our connection than a standard dinner and movie date. Though chipping and putting around the green do not require Edward's arms wrapped around me, the one advantage is that I get to stand behind him. I watch his putting form with new eyes today, the eyes of a girl that has two consecutive dates with those broad shoulders, that well sculpted waistline, that tight tush, and those long fingers that delicately but firmly control his stroke.

"How come I don't hear any balls falling into the hole?"

Busted. Jeez, does he have eyes in the back of his head? "'Cause I keep missing?" I squeak guiltily.

He chuckles and cranes his neck. "If I can't trust you back there, I'm putting you in front of me."

"Yes, Master." I line up my balls at six inches and start again.

O)(O

"Are you interested in going to Emmett's Halloween party Saturday night?" he asks me on the way back.

"Sure. Do we need costumes?" I've never been much for Halloween costumes. It's always seemed like one giant collective justification for girls to dress as slutty as possible.

"Yeah. Have any ideas?" He doesn't sound much more enthusiastic than I feel.

"Did you want to do something together…as a couple?"

He brightens. "That could be fun. Peanut Butter and Jelly? Cheese and crackers? Milk and cookies? Mac 'n Cheese?"

"I'm sensing a common theme. Are you hungry?" I tease. "How about Angel/Devil, Doctor/Nurse, Cat/Mouse?"

"We could be the royal couple."

"Oh, you want to get married on our second date?"

"Sure, why not?" he says casually.

"I might have a problem getting a wedding gown in Bumfuck, New Hampshire. How about Fred and Wilma?"

He chuckles, "I think we look more like Barney and Betty Rubble!"

"Oh God, we totally do! That's perfect, Edward."

"Where are we going to find _those_ costumes in Bumfuck?" He cracks up again.

"Find 'em? We're going to make 'em! What time is your golf match over on Saturday?"

"I should be done by 1."

"Perfect. Get your work done tonight. You're mine on Saturday." God damn, I like the sound of that.

**^EPOV^**

In between finishing my Psych reading and Pre-Calc homework, I take a few minutes to Google the Rubbles. I am pleased when the images of Betty pop up, and I am reminded how short her little blue dress is. Barney's showing some serious skin as well. "Fair is fair," I tell myself, borrowing one of Emmett's favorite phrases. It's going to be a great date, and now it's extended all the way into the early afternoon as well. I couldn't have planned it better.

Speaking of planning, I make the final arrangements for tomorrow night. Bella is going to love the jazz festival, and the best part is it's away from campus. A chance for the two of us to just be ourselves on neutral ground. And when I tell her I'm earning extra credit, she'll be even more impressed!

Jasper pops through the door with Alice and says, "You're working hard over there!"

"I have a lot going on this weekend and I need to get this stuff out of the way. By the way, are you guys coming to Emmett's Halloween party Saturday night?"

"Yes," grimaces Jas. "Apparently, I'm going as Peter Pan."

"Tinkerbell, I presume?" I grin at Alice. How she gets away with controlling Jas so thoroughly, I'll never know. Oh hell, what am I talking about? At least Jasper gets to cover his legs with green tights! Is it possible to be whipped before we even start dating?

"Do you have a costume yet? I have some ideas…" Alice starts in.

The thought frightens me. She probably wants me to be their Captain Hook. Or Wendy. I shiver.

"I'm all set. Bella and I are going to be the Rubbles."

"Bella?" they both ask at once.

"Yeah?" I ask right back. Okay, so I probably should've told Jas that I asked her out since he's put up with my belly-aching and moodiness.

"Something you've been meaning to tell me, Eduardo?"

"I may have asked Bella out. And she may have accepted."

"Well halle-fuckin'-lujah!, buddy!"

Alice loops her elbow through mine and spins me around square-dance style. "We are going to all have so much fun together!"

"Wow, someone's excited for Halloween!" I chuckle.

"Halloween? I was talking about our four years at Holden!"

"Jas, can't you do something about her?" I plead, during our third revolution.

He laughs out loud, "I really can't."

O)(O

It's not easy to sit still in Comp Sem, and even harder in Psych, but finally, classes are over. I wait impatiently for Bella to work out with Riley, and I give her exactly one hour to shower and get dressed. All I've told her is that we'll be outside and she should dress casually.

Rose opens the door a crack and feigns surprise. "Why, Edward, how nice to see you! Bella's just touching up her lips." She gives me an exaggerated wink and holds me at bay in the hallway.

I lean in so Bella can't possibly hear and say, "Thanks, Rose. I owe you."

"Just don't make her use her pepper spray, Little Cullen."

Before I can object to her nickname for me, Bella appears in the narrow opening and Rose disappears from view with a final, "Be good, you two."

Bella pulls the door open wide enough to fit through and slips out into the hallway with me. She's wearing skinny jeans and a long-sleeved emerald green version of the blue sweater that first opened my eyes to the wonders of Bella. She's wearing a pair of tall brown leather boots that remind me of girls riding horses in the country. Her hair falls simply past her shoulders and her lips are glistening, but otherwise she's not made up at all. Thank goodness. I can never understand why girls think that guys like makeup.

"Hey," she says, biting her lower lip and looking everywhere but at me. How endearing; she's nervous.

"Hey," I say right back. "Come on, we have a bus to catch."

"Can I help you carry something?" she asks, noticing the huge bag I'm carrying and two blankets I have slung around my shoulders.

"Nope, I'm good. Besides, you must be tired from your workout."

"No, actually I feel fantastic."

"You _look_ fantastic," I add, which doesn't really help her relax at all. I'm okay with that. I want Bella just a little on edge, just a little out of her comfort zone. I don't want this to feel like we're going to class. I wasn't kidding when I told her she'd know when we were on a date. She knows it now.

She blushes and shrugs off my compliment. "You gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Uh-uh."

**~BPOV~**

Truth is, Edward could take me to Lower Slobbovia, for all I care. I am floating along on a cloud of bliss. The mystery only adds to his sexy, confident vibe. We board the bus, and he protectively nudges me into the seat first. He settles in after me and divests himself of bag and blankets. My mind fills with images of snuggling up with him under that green fleece.

"Wait, are those Holden blankets?"

"Yeah."

"When did you get those?"

"This afternoon." Oh my God, he is so damn adorable. He went to the bookstore _today_ and bought these for our date. "I didn't want you to be cold."

O)(O

We arrive at the gates of the Shady Meadow Music Center and Edward pulls two tickets out of his back pocket. Hmm, are those new jeans? It occurs to me that he mostly wears khakis since denim is a no-no at the course. I quickly look away before he catches me admiring the view. It's his own fault for being sex on legs. The tails of his button-down peek out tantalizingly below his dark blue v-neck. Ohmygod, I hope I get a chance to feel that sweater on my cheeks.

"The New England Jazz Festival? I've always wanted to come to this. This is awesome, Edward!"

"You can help me do my extra credit for History of Jazz now, too," he winks. Gah!

He leads me to the top of the lawn and says, "Pick a spot, any spot."

It seems to be a mellow crowd, except for the few people dressed up early for Halloween. The festival has been going on for several hours already, and most of these people are looking pretty toasted. There are blankets in clusters all over the lawn, and I point to a spot of lawn that's about halfway down and toward the outside of the crowd.

As we tiptoe around blankets, trying to avoid stray body parts, Edward takes my hand and weaves his fingers between mine. He leads me confidently along, as if he hasn't just set every part of my body on fire.

**^EPOV^**

We stake our claim with the first blanket and I leave the other folded up in the corner. I kick off my loafers. Bella's boots are a bit more of a project, and she leaves them on for now.

"Hungry?" I ask, unzipping the cooler bag.

"Starved," she admits.

"Riley working you too hard?" I'm digging through the contents as we talk, laying out our picnic.

"Nah. Hey, I did a pull-up today!" she says proudly.

I recognize that this is no small feat. "Hmmm, sounds like you've earned a non-caloric reward. I'll have to see what I can do about that." I pause and give her a smile that holds a promise she can't mistake, and she squirms ever so slightly.

"But first, we better get some food in you." She exhales with relief and disappointment_. Oh, you delicious little lamb._

"Did you get all this at Green Machine?" she asks, taking in another forkful of the fennel and Brussels sprouts salad.

"Yes, Rose gave me a list of your favorite dishes."

"You asked Rose what foods I like?" she mumbles around her mouthful of food.

"Yeah. I didn't want you to have to go off your meal plan."

She licks her lips and smiles broadly. "Do you even _like_ any of this food?"

"Whatever, I'm easy. Hey, save room for dessert."

"Dessert?" she says excitedly, hurriedly setting aside her plate. "You didn't…!"

"Actually, I did," I gloat. I reach into the bag and pull out the yogurt-carob brownies that Rose promised me Bella loves. Yecchhh.

She holds out her hand and I place one squarely in her palm. "Aren't you going to finish dinner first?"

"I'm finished," she smiles, drawing the brownie in. At the very last second, her eyes close, she bites into the brownie, and she makes a moaning noise that is totally unfair. I feel insanely happy watching Bella take pleasure in her meager snack, and feel a pang of jealousy toward the brownie that brought her such unbridled joy.

O)(O

"So, who's on next?"

"His name is Oliver Theophilus Jones, a 77-year-old Canadian jazz pianist," I tell her, reading off the program while she packs up the food and moves it out of the way. Our timing is perfect; it's just starting to get dark, and it is an absolutely perfect crisp New England fall evening with not a cloud in sight.

Oliver's a distant spot on a faraway stage, and extra credit or no extra credit, he's not my number one focus right now. I stretch out my king-sized-bed-legs and tip backward onto my palms behind me. Bella's tightly bundled up Indian-style. I'm perfectly content to wait a little bit and let the dusk and the music work their magic.

**~BPOV~**

Edward's promise of a non-caloric reward ricochets around in my head, and truth be told, other body parts as well. He looks like the same Edward who I've become so comfortable around, but it's as if a triple ration of my Super Love magic powder has been dumped on my head. My senses are on high alert, my heart is pounding at his every look and gesture, and I feel connected to him with a thousand invisible threads, though we're not physically touching at all.

All those favorite dishes of mine are warring in my stomach, bouncing off my jangling nerves. I almost wish now that I hadn't eaten at all, but how incredibly sweet is it that he's gone to such extremes to please me? I sneak a peek at my generous, thoughtful friend, but when he turns his green eyes my direction, all I see is a whole mess of sexy. I whimper helplessly and wonder how much longer I can stand my ground.

Love powder aside, I'm not chemically altered. And I've grown to trust this boy next to me. So, _why_ am I holding back? I unfold my legs and unzip my boots. Edward seems not to notice while I mimic his position.

"Edward, this is really nice. Thank you for bringing me here."

"I'm happy you came. What do you think of this guy?"

I think he's playing the perfect background music for our first kiss. _Shit no, don't say that_.

"He doesn't sound 77. He sounds young and fresh."

Edward closes his eyes and lets the music wash over him. I try closing my eyes, but I'm just too self-conscious. I am hyper aware of Edward in my peripheral vision. I fantasize about scooting over and nestling myself under the arch of his left shoulder. The song ends and Edward opens his eyes and pushes forward to clap. I do the same.

When Oliver starts playing again, my upper body feels impossibly heavy and I succumb to the pull to just lie back, clasping my hands behind my head. I stretch my legs straight out and cross them at the ankles. I could float away on this blanket with Edward. We have enough food to last us a few days. After that, we could fish. And eventually, we'd probably land on a desert island, and we could eat coconuts and drink pina coladas…

"Bella?"

His soft voice rouses me, and I open my eyes to the wondrous sight of Edward lying next to me on his side, his head propped up by the palm of his hand, a curious smile adorning his face.

"Mmm?"

"Wherever you just went, take me with you next time."

Oh, you were _definitely_ there. "Just enjoying the music. It's so relaxing."

"You know, you're going to give me a complex if you fall asleep on our first date."

I push myself up onto my own elbow so I'm his mirror image. "I wasn't asleep. I promise."

"I believe you," he answers. And then, his right hand kind of twitches between us, like it doesn't know what to do with itself. That's when I remember something from Edward's essay that has been bothering me ever since I read it. And since Oliver Jones has just left the stage, this seems like a great time for a discussion.

**^EPOV^**

Aw, hell no! I open my eyes after 'Something for Chuck' and glance at Bella, who is sleeping soundly on the blanket beside me! I scoop up my flattened ego and attempt to revive my date.

All is not lost, I realize, as I situate myself next to dozing Bella. I learn something new and fascinating- Bella talks in her sleep. I can't decipher every word, but I hear enough to get the gist: "float away…with Edward…fish…island… pina coladas…"

"I wasn't asleep. I promise," she claims adorably.

"I believe you," I answer, because she'll spend the rest of the night feeling terrible if I don't let her off the hook.

In that post-dream-state moment, I'm so ready to reach out and touch her, just smooth her hair behind her ear. My right hand actually starts the motion before I rein it in. _Just give her a little more time, a few more stars,_ I chide myself and check the night sky.

"Hey, Edward?"

"Hmmm?"

"Did you really mean what you wrote…about…physical contact?"

_Oh._ I'd seriously considered not including that dimension at all, partly because I didn't want to expose both of us that way to Banner, but also because I wasn't sure how she'd react. Because of everything else going on during peer review, she glossed right over it. But here it is, like an uninvited chaperone dropped right between us on our blanket. "Yeah."

She flinches and blinks up at me. "So you've been thinking I'm _scared_ of you?"

My little experiment with Emmett seems pretty outlandish right now, though at the time, it was highly convincing. "I don't really know what to think. I was kind of hoping I might eventually desensitize you to my touch."

She rolls onto her back, eyes to the sky, laughing and holding her stomach. "That sounds like maybe the worst idea I've ever heard."

"I can see where it would be a little inconvenient on a date," I lament. "And besides, how am I going to award you your non-caloric treat without touching you?"

I observe her vigilantly as she responds, her eyes flashing to mine with anticipation. "So, can I assume that you're not scared of me, then?" I ask, closing in on her slightly, allowing the fingers on my right hand the freedom to brush through her hair and anchor her head in place.

"I'm terrified," she answers, fully surrendering and flicking her wide brown eyes between the twin threats of my piercing eyes and my approaching mouth.

I hold her gaze in mine as long as I can without going cross-eyed. I'd rather not leave that unflattering image among her memories of our first kiss. My lids close one millisecond before my lips reach hers.

My first taste of Bella is possibly the sweetest moment I've ever shared with a girl. Brownie aside, Bella's innocence and trust mingle with my own deferred desire and I instantly recognize that while I've kissed and been kissed before, Bella is an entirely new adventure.

**~BPOV~**

Edward's fingers through my hair send my nerve synapses into overdrive, and his firm hand at my neck both steadies and completely unbalances me. Edward's eyes pinch closed, and my own follow suit. Not because I don't want to watch this perfect scene unfold, but because my senses are utterly overwhelmed. The moment his lips close over mine, that sensation trumps everything else that ever came before it. I have no frame of reference for the exquisite pleasure he ignites in me. Not two seconds into the kiss, I'm deep under Edward's spell.

I'm so dizzy with happiness and desire, every gentle recapture of my lips sparks a new flame. His lips transmit a whole story and mine eagerly devour every syllable.

I am not the least bit surprised that Edward's kiss has electrified my 'feminine areas' but I was not expecting the tingling in my extremities. No cell in my body is exempt from the delirium Edward's lips have inspired. When he reluctantly pulls back, my lips are bereft, and I realize they've settled into a pout. He smiles and comforts me with a very sweet bonus peck on the lips while his thumb brushes maddeningly under my ear.

I feel that the occasion probably calls for some monumental announcement, but all I can do is stare into his gorgeous glowing eyes and thank whatever Higher Power brought this boy into my life. He seems fine with not naming what just happened as well. For all the talking we do, we're both perfectly comfortable in our shared silence.

Gradually and gracefully, Edward withdraws his right hand and rolls onto his back. He folds his hands together behind his neck and sighs contentedly. I study his strong profile and note with intense satisfaction that I am at least partially responsible for his happiness. My tongue makes a circuit over my lips, drawing in the remnants of Edward's flavor. The next musician takes the stage, and on some level, I'm sure I take in the sounds. But 99% of my attention is consumed by Edward, and how I can get myself more of those lips.

**^EPOV^**

Yeah, that was an inspiring kiss, and I think it's fair to say I've left both of us wanting. And that's a very good place for a first date, especially when I know I'll enjoy her company all day tomorrow.

I'm not playing games with Bella; I'm being careful. I understand she's eager, but she's also dangerously inexperienced. I'm in this for the long haul, and I'm more than okay practicing a healthy dose of self-restraint. And quite frankly, while I may be the more experienced sexually, being with Bella is making me feel as if I've never done any of this before. Sure, my body responds in all the predictable ways, but the newness and the depth of it all takes me totally by surprise. So, I'm in no rush tonight.

"You getting cold?" I ask, noticing she's folded her arms over her chest.

"A little."

I reach the spare blanket and settle it over her body, tucking her arms in playfully.

"You're not cold?" she asks.

"Nah, I'm fine," I answer.

"Well, let me know if you want to share," she offers hopefully, then averts her eyes shyly.

"I want to share," I answer immediately.

She lifts the corner of the blanket for me, in delicious invitation. I scoot closer and allow her to cover my opposite shoulder. She kicks her feet around, nudging the blanket over my legs. Finally we're both more or less covered. I reach my left arm out and snake it under her head, pulling her closer to me. She makes a happy little noise and nestles in under my arm.

"Don't you go falling asleep on me, Bella." I don't add 'again'.

"Most guys would consider it a successful first date if we sleep together."

"Pshhh," I respond inelegantly. "I guess I'm not most guys."

O)(O

Another hour goes by and Bella's eyes are drooping. "Mind if we head out? I have that early tee time tomorrow."

I fold the blankets while Bella climbs back into her boots. I take her hand and we walk gingerly through the tangled mass of concert-goers in the dark. When we get off the bus at the Holden stop, I see that Bella's still cold. I reopen one of the blankets and wrap it around her shoulders. She immediately holds out the corner and I climb in with her. I take her hand again because I've discovered I really love holding Bella's hand, especially the kind of hand-holding that connects us from fingertip to shoulder. We enter the dorm from the back, closer to Bella's room than mine. The halls are uncomfortably lit by obnoxious fluorescents, and I hate the way the perfect atmosphere of our date under the stars is disturbed by this ugly harshness.

We reach her door and I'm resigned to an overexposed good night kiss, when suddenly I'm inspired. I drop the bag and the extra blanket, and even Bella's hand. Reaching around behind us, I grasp the blanket and pull the long edge over our heads, plunging us into our own dark, cozy bubble. "Oh God, that is so much better." I hear a soft giggle in response.

Pressing Bella's back to the door, I find her head with both hands, and locate her mouth with my thumbs. Using my human GPS, I zero in on her lips with mine. Having reached my destination, I leave Bella with a kiss that I hope expresses all the promise of starting something new and wonderful together. Oxygen is sparse, and I'm forced to pull back sooner than our open-air kiss at the concert earlier. I'm not happy about it, but I'd prefer not to suffocate my date.

"Thanks for a perfect first date, Bella," I whisper in the dark. My eyes are adjusting, but I can't see anything beyond basic shapes.

"Thank _you_, Edward. I had a great time." She wriggles the blanket off our heads, and before she turns away, the bright light illuminates in her eyes exactly what I know is reflected in mine. Happiness, excitement, and hope.

**~BPOV~**

When my head hits the pillow, I replay every second of both kisses, and as much as I can remember of what took place in between. I curl up in the fleece blanket that Edward left with me. I love the idea that we each have half of the matching pair.

O)(O

My first thought upon waking is the memory of Edward's lips meeting mine. I hop out of bed energetically, shower efficiently and prepare myself to root Holden 1 to victory today.

As I dress, I'm jealous of Rosalie's ability to wear the name Cullen on her back, and I wish Edward had a similar uniform so I could pledge my loyalty for everyone to see. I settle for pulling my ponytail through my generic Holden cap. I mix yogurt with blueberries and granola, grab a spoon, and down my breakfast as I walk briskly to the first tee, arriving just minutes before Edward and Jasper are announced.

Edward's face lights up as he sees me slide into place with Alice. I give him an unobtrusive wave hello. I can't even look at him without thinking about our kisses and blanket snuggling. Watching his body move along the course today is an exercise in restraint. He and Jasper have strategizing to do between shots; Edward doesn't have time for my fan girl crush. That doesn't stop his usual entourage from flirting and pushing their way toward the fairway, but the boys don't even seem to notice today.

Alice keeps me occupied, probing about our date in microscopic detail. By the time I get to the under-the-blanket good-night kiss, we're all on the eighteenth hole and the boys have locked up the match.

"Ladies," Jas greets us after they've posted their scores. Alice rushes him and wraps her arms around his neck exuberantly, planting a kiss on his waiting lips.

Edward and I don't know how to do this yet. We're standing somewhat awkwardly. "Congratulations," I offer. "You played great."

"Yes, once I got my head out of my ass on the first few holes," he says. "Luckily, I have a great partner."

Jasper crooks his elbow around Edward's neck and pulls Edward's hair to his lips. "I love you, too, 'Duardo. And I believe you owe me a drink for said holes."

Edward makes a show of wiping off Jasper's kiss. "One quick drink, Jas. Bella and I have somewhere to be." I'm pleased he's remembered his promise.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Jas teases. "I didn't see Bella sinking any twelve-foot putts to birdie three holes today."

"Come on, ya big baby."

Sitting in O'Hara's today, the atmosphere is different. We're two couples, not just Jalice plus two. As we sip our Diet Cokes, Edward reaches under the table and finds my hand, lacing his fingers between mine and holding them together in his lap. And he doesn't let go when our food comes, which makes eating his burger extremely messy, but he doesn't seem to mind.

O)(O

"Any thoughts on how we're going to do this?" he asks, standing in the entrance of the Target store.

"I think we need a brown shirt, a blue dress, and a pair of scissors. Add a necklace and a hair tie and we're done."

Edward consults his picture. "Wait, what's this black criss-cross thing on Barney's shirt?"

"Oh right. We should get a pair of black shoelaces, too."

**^EPOV^**

"Should we split up?" I suggest. "It'll go faster."

"Okay, I'll get the clothes and accessories, you're on scissors and shoelaces. Meet you at the register in twenty minutes?"

I have the easier job, and I've hunted down my items in five minutes. With my spare time, I head to the greeting card area and pick out a totally corny Halloween card. I rush through the express lane to pay for it before Bella sees me. There's a whole rigmarole with the acne-encased cashier thinking I'm trying to steal the scissors and shoelaces because I don't want to pay for those until Bella arrives. The kid finally calls his manager over and luckily we work it all out. I tuck the card into the waistband of my khakis, the cheap plastic bag clinging to my slightly sweaty back.

Bella holds out my costume for approval and I give her the thumbs up, but she won't show me hers. "Not yet," she says. I see she has the necklace and hair thingy also, so I pick a different cashier and we slide our things through together, splitting the total in half. As I pass by this new cashier, he detects a crinkling noise. Gleefully believing he's just made the discovery that will catapult him to the apex of Target cashier of the week, he demands to see what's inside my shirt. I roll my eyes and Bella looks on in utter confusion. When I refuse, Sherlock Holmes calls over the manager- one and the same- and he asks me to please just get the hell out of the store.

"What's going on?" she asks.

"I'll tell you when you show me your dress," I answer. Tit for tat.

I'm pretty sure the silly gesture wasn't worth all the trouble it's caused.

O)(O

"Bella, I feel ridiculous."

"Well, at least your costume goes down below your knees. I never realized what a slut Betty was!"

"Maybe you should cut the sleeves _after_ I take the shirt off," I suggest.

"Just remember, Edward. I cut your costume, you cut mine." Any fool knows I have the better end of that deal, so I wisely shut my mouth and hold stock still while Bella scissors around my biceps, which I may be flexing.

"Okay, you can take your pants off now," she directs.

"Well, I guess our second date has officially begun!"

"I need to see where your knees are so I can cut this in the right place."

She sinks to the floor by my feet and looks up, imploring me to drop my pants. All kinds of inappropriate thoughts fly into my head, and I realize I better toss them out before Trouble starts. Without my pants, I'll have only my boxer briefs and this cotton shirt to hide behind. Not the time for Barney to sprout a boner.

I reach my hands up the sides of the XXXL brown tee and unbutton my khakis. I have to look away from Bella's eyes as I slide down the zipper and wriggle out of my pants. Okay, now I really feel silly, and I think I may even be blushing.

Bella chuckles from below. "Don't worry, Edward. I'm not looking up your dress." Her comment is hardly helpful, especially since I anticipate having the same dilemma when it's my turn, and I'm not sure I can be as disciplined as she is. I try to be still as her hands work the cotton away from my legs so she doesn't nick me.

"Turn, please," she requests after cutting the front. A few minutes later, Barney's basic costume is complete. "You're all set. Why don't you take this off and I'll sew in the laces?" she suggests, standing back up.

I retrieve my pants and slide them up under the tee. Bella averts her eyes for the fastening. I pull the shirt over my hand and hand it to her with my left hand, holding out my right hand, palm up, for the scissors. "My turn," I smile.

**~BPOV~**

Edward thinks nothing of peeling off his shirt and standing there bare-chested, alone with me in his room. But I get such a _ZING_ that I don't trust myself to hand him the scissors. Using both hands, I gingerly place the sharp object in his hand and take the offered shirt. I can't stop gawking at his body. He seems infinitely more…naked than the first time he lifted his shirt to tease me. Something about the way his neck and shoulders are exposed, too, and the pecs and the tapered waist and those fairy tale abs…I can't tear my eyes away.

"Bella, you want to change? Yoo hoo!"

"What? Oh yeah, I'll just…" How am I doing this? "I'll just run to the bathroom. Be right back."

"Bella, it's a Men's Room. You sure you don't want to just change here?"

I am caught between a rock and a hard place, and they're both in front of me right now. "Is there a stall with a door?"

"Yeah," he laughs. "We're men, not animals."

Yes, I can see you're all man, thank you very much. "That'll work," I say hastily, grabbing my dress from the bag and propelling myself to the door. I yell back, "Put a shirt on while I'm gone!" and I hear him laughing behind me.

O)(O

Five minutes later, I'm checking myself out in the full-length bathroom mirror, pleased with my choice. It's a blue baby-doll cover-up with plenty of fabric for him to work with at the bottom. I push bravely through his door and I'm relieved to find him kneeling on the floor, wearing his golf shirt from earlier, scissors in his hand and shit-eating grin on his face. "Better?"

"Shut up," I say, approaching cautiously. He waves me closer and closer until my toes are touching his knees.

"The dress looks great on you. Now," he says, brandishing the scissors threateningly, "how high should I cut?"

"I'd say about three inches? It's more about the jagged than the short."

Just barely grazing my leg, he pulls the hem near my right thigh toward him and places it between the blades. "Trust me?" he asks menacingly.

"Mostly," I admit.

Snip! "How's that?" he asks, holding it out so I can see how far he's cut.

"That looks good."

"Okay, hold still." I try to look straight ahead instead of down at the top of his head. Between snips, he glides along the floor on his knees, moving around me, occasionally tapping my leg when he regrips the material. I hold my breath while he crawls around behind me, pondering that maybe this is one of the weirder second dates. But who am I to judge? I've never had one before.

I catch the look of concentration on his face as he rounds my left knee and cuts across the front. I almost want to laugh at how serious he looks, but then I see his expression change.

"Woops," he cringes, severing the strip of fabric from the remaining dress.

"What do you mean, woops?"

He guiltily holds out the hem of the dress so I can see that he's traveled upward about two inches from where we agreed. "Sorry?"

"Fix it, Edward," I implore, knowing there's only one way to even things out. You can't uncut. It's like that time I tried cutting my own bangs.

He puts his head down and gets back to work, recutting around my right leg until he's satisfied. "That'll do," he reports. I spin around slightly so I can see the damage. It's short, but not obscene. And my legs don't look half bad.

"Are you sure you didn't do that on purpose?"

"I may have lost my concentration around back somewhere," he grins. All is forgiven.

**^EPOV^**

"I am absolutely not walking to Emmett's without my pants on." I say proactively, as she opens the door for me. "Wow, Bella, you look great. You totally nailed the hair."

She just laughs and motions me inside. "Can you fasten this necklace please? What is that thing you're carrying?"

"I made a prehistoric golf club. They used to play all the time on the show." I hold up my prop, a branch with a squarish rock attached. "You like?"

"Very creative."

"And convenient. If Gil goes anywhere near you, I can just whack him with it."

"You're really taking this caveman thing seriously, eh?"

"Yabbadabbadoo!"

"Ready to roll?"

"Wait, you're going like that? You're going to freeze!"

She reaches the fleece blanket- _our_ fleece blanket- off her bed and wraps it around her shoulders. Perfect.

O)(O

"Well, lookie who's here," Emmett booms. His outfit is truly frightening, but I don't have the time right now to deal with him.

"Hold on, don't look at us yet," I warn, pulling Bella into the bathroom with me. I kick off my shoes and shrug off my jeans while Bella folds the blanket and takes off her own shoes. She reapplies her lipstick and we step out together, tossing our discarded items into a corner.

"Ta da!" Bella says to the small crowd.

"Hah! You two look fab!" gushes Tinkerbell. "You have great legs, Edward!"

"Well, I can't compete with Jazzy's green tights," I mock him shamelessly.

"Emmett, please don't tell me you're wearing Rose's shorts?" Bella howls with laughter.

"Hells no, even _my_ tight end couldn't fit into Rosie's tiny Daisy Dukes. She bought me these shorts, but the rest is all hers! Whaddya think?"

Emmett and Rose have switched their typical game day uniforms; Rose is wearing his full uniform, complete with padding. Emmett is sporting Rose's cut off #84 jersey, an obscenely tight pair of white denim shorts and green and white face paint.

"Scary, big brother. Terrifying in fact."

The girls giggle away to get Bella a drink. I pull the other two guys into a huddle. "Will you look at the three of us? We're like chicks with dicks! What the hell is the matter with us walking around in these ridiculous costumes?"

Jasper taps me once on the shoulder and points his finger at Tinkerbell, Betty Rubble and makeshift Emmett. The girls are clearly having a great time together, and there isn't a guy at the party who wouldn't bare a little leg to get with any one of them.

"Touché, Peter."

**~BPOV~**

"You know, I'm really starting to like this blanket," I confess to Edward in the hallway outside my door.

"Mmmm, me too," he answers, turning to face me and connecting the two ends, encasing us in a circle of fleece.

"You know what?" he continues. "This was an exceptional day. I never thought I'd enjoy making Halloween costumes, but with you…it was surprisingly entertaining."

"I had a great time, too. Even when you cut an extra two inches off my dress."

"It was an accident, Bella, I swear! I wasn't tryin-"

Time for him to use that amazing mouth for something other than talk, I decide, reaching my fingers over his lips. "I've kinda been waiting all night to see if Barney Rubble is a good kisser."

I release him so he can answer me properly. "Well, shame on Barney," he says, wrapping his hand behind my neck to draw me in.

Mmmm, yes, Barney turns out to be a fabulous kisser.

"See you tomorrow morning, Betty?" he asks with a wink.

As if I'd consider being anywhere else.


	10. Pick a Color

**10/31/2011 (HALLOWEEN!)**

**^EPOV^**

"What's this?" Bella asks curiously, spying the orange envelope waiting for her on the desk next to mine.

I shrug, and she slides into her chair and tears open the envelope in a most indelicate way. "The Target fiasco?" she confirms.

"Yes, the Great Greeting Card Incident of 2011."

A goofy grin settles on her face, and I know now that all the hassle with overzealous cashiers was worth it. "Happy Howl-a-ween to you too, ya cornball."

Professor Banner drops my paper in front of me. _'Way to dig deep, Mr. Cullen. A'_

Bella takes mine and passes hers over. _'Very insightful. Your observations ring true, Miss Swan.'_

"Happy Halloween, everyone. These papers were far too personal to share, so let's move right into the next assignment. We're going to try our hand at some poetry." Moans, groans, boos. "Easy now, guys. Here's how it's gonna go. You are going to work with your partner on this and turn in one paper together. I want you to select a color and write about 400 words about what that color inspires, any format you choose is fine. We're going to use the rest of today's class to conference and choose your colors. Go."

I like it. No research. More time with Bella. We've both been getting A's for the most part, so I don't feel as if she'll be pulling all the weight. And the idea of taking a break from introspective prose is downright refreshing. Bella turns her chair to face me and pulls out her notebook.

"So, what color pops to mind, partner?" I venture.

She's trying to swallow her smile, and I'm dying to know what she's thinking. I raise an eyebrow.

"Green," she says quietly.

"Why green?"

She grabs my eyes with hers. "It's all I can see."

I feel my lips curling upward in response. "I suppose I can work with that."

"We've got another thirty minutes. Should we start writing?"

"Sure," I agree.

Bella suggests, "Let's just freeform and I'll take notes. _Glowing eyes of a cat."_

_"Freshly cut grass."_

Professor Banner appears over Edward's shoulder, "You're writing about a color, so the visuals are going to be the obvious observations. How about adding an unexpected sense in there- say, 'Fragrantly fresh newly mown grass'?"

Bella scribbles as he talks. "_Worn and wrinkly twenties_," she says.

"_The intimate warmth of_ _Holden fleece,_" I add. Bella stops writing to give me a warning glare.

Whether Banner catches on or not, I can't tell. His next recommendation doesn't give him away, "How about something a little darker- don't give me all rainbows and unicorns here."

"_The anxiety of waiting for an unripened banana_?" Bella tries.

"_Frankenstein's face_!" I offer, in the spirit of Halloween.

"Continue delving, you two. You'll figure it out. These ideas are a good start, but give me more, thinking in verbs might be helpful."

O)(O

"Bella, I hope you don't mind, but I asked Jas to work with me tomorrow on my chipping. There's something a little off and I need to be perfect for the NESCAC Saturday."

"Of course, Edward. You two go ahead and -"

"I didn't mean for you not to come, Bella."

"Oh. No, you should just work with Jasper."

"Come with us. Listen to his thoughts. Learn with me."

**~BPOV~**

Edward's humility stops me dead in my tracks. My father's words ring in my head, "The mark of a good man is being unafraid to seek out good advice." How can I resist a chance to participate in this?

"Sure, Edward. I'll come." It's not like I have anything better to do at 7:30 am.

O)(O

"Bella, you can't cancel on Connor. Besides, you shouldn't put all your eggs in one basket."

I don't know about eggs and baskets, but Riley's just gone on about how much I've helped Connor and how grateful they both are, making my conflict so much more confusing. "But I feel so disloyal to Edward. And besides, how can Connor possibly compete?"

"First of all, Edward already knows he's not the only guy you're seeing. And as for Connor, you've got to give the guy a chance. You said your first date was really nice."

"It was, but-"

"But nothing. Now you've tasted Edward so you'll have something to compare it to when Connor kisses you for real." It really wouldn't be any kind of contest to compare my good-night peck with Connor to my make-out sessions with Edward.

"Come on, Bella. You and Edward aren't married. You've been on a couple dates."

"So how many other guys have _you_ dated at Holden, Rose?" Gotcha there.

"That's different, Bella. I've been dating since I was twelve. My research is complete."

"Ick, Rose, you make it sound so clinical."

"Trust me, Bella, there's nothing clinical about the way I felt when Emmett turned his dimple on me at that first football game."

"So that's it? You're done looking?"

"Totally. I'm over the moon for the guy."

"Wow, Rose. Does Emmett feel the same way?"

"As far as I can tell," she says wistfully.

O)(O

I open the door to two expectant faces. "Morning," whispers Edward, as I scoot out quietly.

"Fair Bella," Jasper greets from behind Edward's body. "Ready for Whitlock Academy?"

"I don't know," I say honestly.

"I'm excited to see what you can do."

Me? I thought I was just watching. Placing himself between us, Edward smiles encouragingly when he senses my nervousness.

O)(O

"Edward, tell me what you're thinking about as you get ready to hit this shot."

Edward responds with what I would consider to be a data dump of speed, direction, terrain, body parts, and technique. Jasper's answer is a light snort. "That's what I thought."

"Give me your wedge," Jasper says, holding out his hand next to Edward. "Here," he says, trading Edward for the ball. "Roll this in."

Edward crouches down from his spot about twenty yards from the green. He takes a couple of experimental windups and tosses the ball gently. It lands softly on the green and rolls right toward the hole, continuing on about two feet past it.

"Pretty good," Jas says, pulling another ball from his pocket. "Try again."

Edward adjusts automatically for the distance and the second toss stops just a couple inches shy of the hole.

"Now, do that with your club," he instructs, dropping a third ball in front of Edward in the grass. Edward's chip is perfection, following the established path right into the hole.

"You're fixed. Bella, your turn."

"What? No, I'm…do Edward some more…"

Edward goes to collect the three balls and brings one back to me. "Here. Toss this."

I mimic Edward's crouch and attempt to copy his skillful throw. My toss lands near the hole and rolls off to the right about 15 feet. Edward walks to the green and points out a spot. "Land it here."

This time, I toss the ball exactly to the spot Edward directed. The ball lands softly and glides within inches of the hole.

**^EPOV^**

"You weren't kidding, Edward. She's a quick study." I feel a wave of pride on her behalf. Bella blushes beet red and glances between the two of us, realizing that I've bragged about her progress with my roommate.

"She's highly teachable," I agree, handing Bella my wedge. "Just picture that same ball flight, and try to land it right here."

Bella reluctantly takes the club and I set the ball gently on a tuft of grass to give her an advantageous lie. She takes a little practice swipe and then chips the ball right where she wanted it, with a similar result. She smiles proudly and I nod encouragingly.

"Maybe you should bring her along, Edward. Sub her in from forty yards in."

"What do you say, Bella? I can pack you in my duffle bag," I suggest, playing along with Jasper's fantasy.

She laughs, "Well, sure, that would be fine on the way there. But on the way back, I'd have to ride with all your smelly clothes. I don't think it's such a great deal for me."

"I guess not. I was just hoping to keep you out of trouble while I'm away."

Her eyes dart away from mine for an instant, and now I know she's got an unpleasant secret. But before I can pry further, Jasper blurts out, "And maybe ward off some of your more aggressive groupies?"

I narrow my eyes at my tactless roommate, as I sense Bella direct a suspicious glare in my direction.

Now I'm pissed at Jas, Bella's pissed at me, and I'm just plain worried about what or who she's got planned once I leave campus.

O)(O

The second Bella's door closes, I give Jas a thump on the chest.

"Jesus, what'd you do that for?" he complains loudly.

"Why'd you have to tell her about the fans? You made it sound like the girls are crawling all over me."

"Hey, if the soft spikes fit…"

"Bella doesn't need to know about _anything_ that happens on the road. Past, present or future. Got that?" I punctuate my remarks with a finger pointed into his chest.

A wide grin spreads across his face. "Why, Eduardo, are you planning on succumbing to the Coochies this weekend?"

"No, you douchical moron. I'm planning on not freaking out the girl I'm trying to get to trust me by making her think she's got something to worry about."

He pops his hands up as if being held at gunpoint. "Okay, okay. Excuse me for trying to inject a little fun into my morning."

It's pretty hard to stay mad at Jas when there's clearly no malicious intent. "Thanks for the help with my chipping, Jas."

"You just think too hard, especially around the greens. You have to just trust your instincts. I have no doubt that if you concentrate on what we just practiced instead of your other eighty swing thoughts, you will easily bring home the second-place trophy." A huge, smug grin takes over his face.

"Oh, I think I've got you this time, you cocky bastard."

"Game on, roommie."

**~BPOV~**

Visions of crazed and scantily clad golf fans intrude on my serene walk to the library, where Connor is already waiting for me. Unlike kids I've tutored in the past, Connor is most considerate of my time and careful not to make me wait. It doesn't hurt that he's trying to impress me with his best behavior.

"Can we do this at Starbuck's instead? I pulled an all-nighter and I'm firing on my last cylinder here."

"Sure. Are you sure you want to wake yourself up? Maybe you should just crash."

He grimaces. "I wish I could, but I have my Org Behavior recitation this afternoon, so I still have another few hours till I can hit the sack."

I can't help but picture Connor hitting the sack, and now I'm wondering where he lives, what his room looks like, whether he has a fleece blanket…

"So while we walk, I thought maybe we could talk about Saturday?" he suggests, as he drags along beside me.

"Okay."

"My housemates and I are having a small party. They're usually pretty fun." He shrugs and it seems like a question.

"Your housemates or your parties?"

"Got it. Ambiguous pronoun," he says with a chastised grin. "To answer your question, both! So, can I come get you at 7:30?"

"Sounds good." Connor pulls open the door and ushers me inside. "I'll grab that table while you get your coffee," I say.

"Can I get you something?"

"No thanks." I settle in and take the opportunity to check out Connor while he waits in line. For a Computer Science major, he's surprisingly buff and pretty darn cute, even with no sleep. He's rocking the spent-the-whole-night-writing-code disheveled look. He turns back to mouth 'Sorry' and catches me gawking. His silent apology turns into a confident grin, and he doesn't release my gaze until the cashier asks for his order.

"So, what are we doing today?" I ask, as he slides into his seat and takes the first sip of his drink. His eyes close and his head tips back as the coffee enters his system. A slow smile comes over his face.

"Mmm, I'm almost starting to feel human again."

I have to giggle, because he is sporting a latte foam moustache, and he doesn't even know it.

"What?" he asks adorably, the dazed smile peeking out from under the froth.

"You've got some…foam…" and I vaguely point to my upper lip.

His tongue comes out quickly and swipes up the mess. I can't seem to take my eyes off his mouth, and I see it curl once again into a wide grin. This is starting to feel more like a date than a tutoring session, and I snap myself out of my haze and I wonder briefly if that's what he had in mind all along.

O)(O

_B-Do we need to work on our poem before class tomorrow or should we wing it? –E_

_E-I think we'll be okay working on it in class. Just think green! b_

_Will do. Didn't see you guys at the library today. Did Connor cancel?_

_No, we met at Starbuck's. He needed caffeine._

**^EPOV^**

Suddenly, a new shade of green drops down over my eyelids. _Jealousy._ I realize she's waiting for my reply, but I'm struggling to find something innocuous. Or even inoffensive. I finally settle on:

_See you in class. Have a good night. E_

I accept that she's dating other people. That doesn't mean I have to like it.

O)(O

"Go forth and create poetry," encourages Professor Banner.

Bella pulls out the notebook where we started this project on Monday. "Anything to add?"

"_The polished glass surface of closely shaven blades provides the backdrop for the drama of rolling white dimpled balls,"_ I read from my own notes.

"That's nice, Edward. Here, I have one, too. _'Pompously overpriced organic microgreens contrast with earth-toned rain-forest-approved wooden salad bowls, varying in shades of brightness but not in bitterness.'_"

"What the hell are microgreens?" I ask.

"Seriously terrible lettuces that cost an arm and a leg," she laughs.

"All right, here goes," I say, screwing up my nerve. "_The swollen green-eyed monster bears down, spewing hot breath so rancid that it threatens to peel off the top layers of skin."_

"Oo-kie. We've apparently plunged right into the dark side."

She looks alarmed, so I try to relax the tight line of my mouth into something less chilling. Bella considers my expression, then continues, "I worked on the blanket line a bit. What do you think of this? _Encased in the forest-tinted coziness of the logo fleece, each touch soothes with the comfort of home_."

On more positive ground now, I relax into the exercise, "That's really good, but I could also see us talking about the sweet and heavy taste of anticipation of a first goodnight kiss…"

"Retinas adjusting to the darkness, aided by the fires blazing in each others' eyes…"

"How about the sound of pounding heartbeats picking up speed together?" I feel my body leaning toward hers, yearning to act out the scenes we're describing.

"Or the magnified scents of warm bodies moving closer together…" Bella adds.

"Fuuuck, Bella," I whisper softly, feeling myself desperately wishing we were under that blanket right now.

Raucous laughter across the room breaks us out of our trance. "Maybe we should go back to something safer." I suggest the most unromantic green thing I can conjure up, _"Neon-colored plastic bins echo with the clinking of glass bottles being recycled within._"

Bella smiles and writes. _"Insistent arrow of light signals my foot to press the accelerator and my hands to turn the steering wheel safely to the left."_

I share my favorite slogan, "_Hundred of tiny green smiley faces proclaim, 'Give peas a chance.'"_

"That's perfect," she giggles. "Let's end with that."

**~BPOV~**

"I know you're going to be finishing up all your work tonight and tomorrow. Why don't you let me type this up and I'll shoot it to you. If you see anything you want to change, just let me know."

"Thanks, Bella. You're going to putt with me tomorrow, right?"

"Sure. Is Jasper coming too?"

"Nope, just the two of us." I have to admit I'm a bit relieved. I like Jasper, but I feel like he knows things about Edward that make me uncomfortable.

I don't really know what to think about what Edward does with other girls. After all, I'm dating Connor and thinking un-tutorly thoughts about him, so why shouldn't Edward get to have fun, too? My gut apparently doesn't understand or care about double standards. It hurts to think he might be fooling around on the road.

I don't want to put him in the position of having to lie, so I decide it's better not ask. Meanwhile, Edward hasn't mentioned another date, so how do I know he's even still interested? He had his "chance with me"; maybe he's decided that was enough.

Then what the hell was that mini-tirade about the green-eyed monster? And that verbal foreplay in class?

O)(O

_E- Take a look when you get a chance. b_

_Bella, it's perfect. Don't change a word. Thanks for doing all the heavy lifting on this one. I owe you. E_

O)(O

"So how does this tournament work?" I ask on the walk over to the course.

"Well, it's all individual, and there are 32 of us in the finals. The scores from Saturday and Sunday will be added together, and the two day low total wins."

"But what about your first-place finish? Aren't you already in the lead?"

"No," he smiles and explains patiently. "That was just a qualifying round, to narrow the field from 128 down to 32 and determine our playing positions. We're all back on a level playing ground."

**^EPOV^**

She knits her brow and scrunches her nose.

"What?" I wonder.

"It doesn't seem fair. All that hard work, your best round ever, and now you have to start over from scratch?"

"Maybe you could write a persuasive essay to the organizers of the tournament on my behalf," I suggest playfully.

She gives me a little shove. "Don't tease me."

"Sorry, it's just too fun."

"So glad I could provide your morning's entertainment."

"Speaking of entertainment, when can I take you out again?" I can clearly see that I've caught her off guard.

"Oh. When were you thinking?"

"I can't wait until next weekend. Any chance we can do something Tuesday or Wednesday?"

"Sure, I mean, depending on homework and test schedules. Don't you have golf practice in the afternoons?"

"Yes, but the sunset is so early now we're done by 5."

"So should we play it by ear for Tuesday or Wednesday and see which works better?"

"Okay. Here, grab the putters?" I debate asking, but in the end, I need to know. "So, what's up for the weekend?"

"I'm going out with Alice tomorrow night, and then Saturday there's the football game."

"I know. I can't believe how bad the timing of our golf schedule has been. At least I'm here next weekend for Homecoming. Anyway, sorry, you were saying…"

"I'm going out with Connor Saturday night. Actually, we're staying in. His housemates are having a party."

'Staying in' with a previously declared hot guy in his own house, where there are sure to be alcohol and loosened inhibitions. I can't mask my disappointment this time. "Oh," is all I can muster.

Bella pivots and puts her hand on my arm. "Edward, he asked me early last week. This is awkward, right?"

"No, I get it. It's fine."

"Yeah? You're okay with this?"

"As long as you promise me one thing."

"What's that?" she asks.

"Miss me while I'm gone?"

Her smile fills across her face without any effort. "I don't think that'll be a problem."

"Well, just in case," I say, dropping all the balls down and taking hold of her face, "let me just remind you what you're supposed to be missing."

I feel a little gasp as Bella figures out what is about to happen. Right there on the putting green, I give Bella a knock-down, drag-out kiss. The kind you can feel right down to your toes. There is no uncertainty in this kiss; it isn't the starry night, come in gently and leave her wanting more, kiss. No, this is a sun's coming up and right here in broad daylight, I am kissing the stuffing out of you, kiss.

And you can't send a girl a message like that without your tongue. When I first reach across just to find her tongue with mine, she jolts and backs away, and I'm having none of that, so I tighten my grip on the sides of her head and hold her carefully in place while I go back for seconds. This time, she isn't skittish, but she also has no idea how to respond. She freezes up.

Suddenly it occurs to me, maybe she doesn't want to do this with me, at least not right here and right now. Am I the world's biggest asshole? Am I fucking _James_? I'm the one who pulls back with a start this time. Holding her closely, I take inventory of her eyes. She looks surprised but not upset.

Resting my forehead against hers, I say, "Oops. I got carried away."

She lets her eyelids close and shakes her head. "You're fine. I mean, you're good. God, I'm so inexperienced. This is so humiliating. I don't even know how to do this." She sounds incredibly frustrated and more than a little embarrassed.

I immediately take her chin in one hand. "Hey. Open your eyes…please?"

When she does, I see the discomfort that I've caused, and I feel ashamed of myself. "There's nothing to know. Just do what feels good. Can I…?"

She nods very slightly and readies herself as if she's about to have a cavity filled. I close in quickly so she doesn't see my mouth forming a smile. I move my lips along hers, giving her time to catch up and relax, without the threat of the intruder. Ever so slowly, I slide my tongue across her lower lip, not asking for anything in return. And when I sense that she's comfortable with that, my tongue searches for hers.

_Ahh, there you are. Here, see how I feel? I'll wait here until you're ready. Oh, hello there. Mmm, isn't this nice? Gently, that's right. We have all the time in the world. Oh, you're getting more comfortable, are you? Well, hells yeah, Bella!_

All of a sudden, I'm kissing Madonna. I mean, a switch has been flipped and there is no unflipping it! Bella's tongue is in da house! She's lapping at me greedily and getting bolder with every breath. There is moaning happening, and I can't discern who's doing it. We're getting really close to something that doesn't make any sense on the putting green, and it's clearly time to put on the brakes. I slow us down and punctuate the passionate kissing with a few parting nips before peeling us apart. I hold her face close to mine and gently pass my thumbs along her lips in appreciation.

I have a pretty good feeling she'll miss me now.

**~BPOV~**

I think I'm a slut. Whatever that was just now, I am crazed for more. I don't even want to come up for air. Please, God, let me die this way. I can't even begin to understand my body's confusing response to this unexpected contact. It's impossible to be so close to him and not crave more of his lips and that delicious tongue.

If Edward's goal was to make me miss him, then mission accomplished! He's standing right next to me and I miss him already!

Wordlessly, we break apart and divvy up the balls and putters. I'm standing directly behind him, but even from this angle, I swear I can see the smile curling all the way around his cheeks.

I miss all six 6-inch putts and glance up just in time to see him sink his sixth in a row. I shake my head in amusement at how what rattles me to the core of my being seems to serve only to inspire him to success.

O)(O

Forty-five agonizingly separated minutes later, we're taking the familiar walk back to my room. But today, it feels like an exercise in self-restraint. I have to forcibly hold my hand away from grazing his as we pump our arms side by side. Have to hold my tongue from begging for another reminder of what I'm not to forget, as if I ever could. And when we finally reach my door, I'm so totally frazzled, I'm sure that one errant touch would set me off like a firecracker.

But Edward's not quite done with me yet. As I'm fumbling to place my key in the lock, I feel the warmth of his tall body draw near and then close over me. He's leaning on the doorjamb, curling both sets of fingertips on the frame above me.

"Before I let you go, I just want to make sure you're clear on my request," he says, and I can hear the devilish smile without even looking.

"Pshhh, yeah," I snort indelicately, "I think I got it."

He places his mouth right into my ear. "So, you don't need a reminder then?" His voice is gravelly and low and tempting as a triple hot fudge sundae.

My brain is too addled to calculate the right answer. If I say no, he'll back away and I won't get another taste until next Tuesday or Wednesday. But how do I ask for this without begging? I split the difference.

"Actually, that might be helpful," I say, so proud of myself.

I spin slowly, and I don't even mind that he's wearing a huge smug smile. It's worth it because he's going to kiss me again. He leans his mouth in closer, basically performing a vertical push-up against the wall. His eyes flick to mine the second before he reaches me. I'm waiting for the crash and crush, but this time, he's gentle and slow and really, really sweet. I feel my insides heating up to boiling, then melting.

He breaks away far too quickly, promising, "See you in class tomorrow, Bella." He pushes off the wall one final time, taking his lips and his warmth with him when he goes.

Surely, I'm ruined for anyone else, which is, of course, exactly what Edward intended.

O)(O

_Bella- Is it too late to add another line? –E_

_Never too late. Watcha got? b_

_Green is a fresh, unopened bud in spring, holding within its inexperienced protective coat the promise of a dramatic bloom of a rare flower._

Holy fucking hell.

_That works. I'll find a place for it. C u tmrw. b_

**^EPOV^**

I have a pit in my stomach, and I'm drawing out our goodbye to the point where it's already painful. We're strolling along Windsor Walk holding hands, filling in the space before my Psych class with last minute conversation.

"So, you've got Riley tonight, then Alice?"

"Yes, I'm going to try to work off the alcohol before I ingest it."

"Well, stay out of trouble, you two." We're both thinking the same thing- it's not going out with Alice I have to worry about. It's _staying in_ with Connor.

"You too, Edward. Did you pack your big stick so you can beat off all your fan girls?"

"I always carry my big stick. It's not a problem," I say lightly.

"On that note,-" she rolls her eyes.

"Yeah," I lament, rubbing my thumb lazily across her knuckles.

"Make sure you send me a text the minute you win," she demands.

"You'll hear from me well before that," I promise.

"Good," she smiles. "Have a great time, and play well."

O)(O

"You guys want some company?" I look up to see four slightly inebriated girls regarding us hopefully.

Jas pauses his texting to slide his eyes over to me. "'Duardo?"

I shake my head minutely, and he answers with a polite smile. "Thanks anyways, ladies."

My phone vibrates and I bring it out.

_E- So you're sitting across from Jas who's texting with Alice who's totally ignoring me? b_

_B- Looks that way. I guess you'll have to entertain me. –E_

_What? Nobody stalking you tonight? b_

_Just you, apparently. _

_That's not what Jas says. b_

"Fuck, Jas!"

"What?"

"What are you telling Alice?"

"Oh, just that we should fix up those girls that just left with the guys that are hitting on Alice and Bella at O'Hara's."

"What the _fuck_?"

_B- Sounds like you've got your own hands full there. And no stick to beat them away! _

_No kidding. I wish I had Barney's golf club with me. That would teach 'em! b_

_Seriously, Bella, are you guys safe?_

_Can you say pepper spray, Edward? Not to mention half the football team is in here tonight. I don't think Emmett would let anything happen to me. No worries. b_

_Em- Do you have eyes on Bella? –Ed_

_Yup, got her bro. What's the prob?_

_Any guys hovering?_

_Yeah. Want us to smoke 'em out?_

_Perfect. Thx._

I wait an agonizing ten minutes, that turn into fifteen, then twenty. Finally, I can't take it anymore.

_Em- What's going on?_

_Ed- We're just hanging with the girls. It's cool._

_Wait, who's WE?_

_Me, Adam, Gil, uh, basically, the Holden offense._

"FUCK. ME!"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Edward?" Jasper asks, completely oblivious to my suffering.

"Did you know the girls are surrounded by half the football team?"

"Yeah. So? Those other dudes left. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"No, Jas. This isn't what I wanted."

**~BPOV~**

_B- Sounds like you've drawn quite the crowd now. E_

_Yes, Edward. Plenty of bodyguards now. Thanks for sending in the troops!_

Emmett is totally adorable swooping in to chase away the evil lurkers. In the meantime, he's brought six of his beefy teammates, and now Alice and I are surrounded by a tableful of muscles, including the Holden Heartthrob himself, Gil Brophy.

"Hey again, Bella. Is this seat taken?" Gil asks, flashing the whitest, straightest set of teeth I've ever seen.

"Feel free," I say invitingly. He lifts his leg over the back of the chair next to me, and just like that, I'm sitting next to Gil Brophy. I slide my phone into my back pocket and settle in to enjoy the company.

"So, you girls planning on coming to the game tomorrow?" he asks.

"Of course, we are!" Alice answers, "We haven't missed one yet."

"You hear that, Cullen? These girls are loyal fans."

"No shit, dude. That's Rosie's roommate right there," Emmett says with a wink.

"Oh, so does that mean you have to wear number 84, Bella?"

I shrug. "I don't have a jersey."

"What? That's tragic! Tell you what, I'll bring an extra for you tomorrow, and you can throw it on at the game."

Now, right there is a whole mess of words I certainly never thought I'd hear. Gil Brophy is inviting me to wear his jersey? His actual jersey?

I'm distracted by the constant stream of vibrations in my pants and realize I'm getting a phone call. Digging out my cell, I see that it's Edward. I hit answer, but I can't hear anything, and reluctantly I have to hang up on him.

_Edward- Sorry, couldn't hear you. Let me just walk outside and I'll call you back. b_

"Excuse me for a minute. Sorry…" I murmur, heading to the exit and dialing Edward as I go.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," I answer. "What's up?"

"You stopped texting. I just wanted to make sure you didn't get carried off by a band of thieves."

"I'm still here," I laugh. "Don't worry, we're with Emmett."

Silence. "Okay then."

"You sound kind of weird, Edward. You sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, just…nervous for tomorrow, I guess."

"Well, get a good night's sleep and you'll be fine. I'll be up early if you want to talk. The game starts at 9:30."

"Okay, Bella. Talk to you tomorrow."

"G'night, Edward."

Long exhale. "Bye."

Replacing our phone, I excitedly head back to our table. Sadly, Gil's just getting up. "So, see you in the morning, Bella? Emmett says you guys sit behind the bench, so I'll know right where to find you." And Gil Brophy gives me his killer smile with a wink kicker.

The table suddenly empties out and feels too quiet and too spacious without the bulky men surrounding us.

"Alice, have you ever noticed that athletes aren't that much fun the night before a game?"

"Not really. Jazzy's pretty fun all the time," she answers with a smirk.

"Well, good for you, you little pixie. And please don't share details."

Mercifully, she changes the topic, "So, will you be wearing Gil's number tomorrow?"

I cannot contain my glee. "Sure. Why not? I mean, he asked me personally."

"I don't know about you, Bella," she says. "You've got men falling at your feet everywhere you go."

"I wouldn't quite say _that_, Alice. But it sure is fun to get noticed, for a change."

"You worked hard for this, Bella. You have a right to enjoy it."

**^EPOV^**

_Em- I thought you asked Brophy to hold off?_

_I did. He did. That was a week ago. _

FUCK!

_Could you help out a brother?_

_Sure, Eddie. We're turning in now anyways. No harm done here. Besides, once a girl goes Cullen, she never goes back._

_Gee, thanks, Emmett. I feel so much better now._

_Keep your panties on. Even Gil can't get the girl during the football game. Concentrate on your match and all will be well. Sleep tight, Eddie._

O)(O

Our wake-up call comes at 7:15 and Jasper and I negotiate showers and breakfast before heading to the practice area.

_B- If you're up, call me. E_

At 8:10, I have to turn my phone to quiet and slip it into my bag. I find Jasper on the practice green and toss down a few balls. "They're gonna be fast today. It's getting colder," he says.

I acknowledge his advice and confirm it with a few long putts. "You talk to Alice this morning?"

"Nah, she's still logging her beauty sleep. Bella?"

I shake my head no.

"Come on, Edward. We'll talk to them when we're in first and second place." He picks up his balls and gives me a friendly slap on the back.

Because of our qualifying scores, Jas and I have the honor of the last tee time. By the time we arrive and are announced on the tee, the crowd is thick with fans from all over New England. I know my own parents would have loved to have been here, but they're coming to Holden next weekend for homecoming, so this tournament wasn't in the cards this year.

"Okay, buddy, let's have it long and straight," encourages my friend.

"That's what she said," I answer in typical fashion, stepping up to my tee.

O)(O

Jas and I are on fire. Between his longer tee shots and my "feel" chipping, we both find ourselves one under at the turn. "You are giving me a run for my money, roommie," Jasper chides.

"I hear the next lowest score is three over, and he's on the 16th."

"So we keep our focus until the ball drops into the last cup, and we've got this."

Bolstered by his inspiring comments, I continue to tear it up on the back nine, and Jasper stays right with me. He's the best playing partner I've ever had, even when he's my opponent. His style of play calms me, and he's serious while staying relaxed. We find ourselves holding onto one under after 18, for a wide four stroke lead on third place.

We've had a steady gallery moving forward with us throughout the morning, and they clamor for us at the judges' tent after we post our scores. Jasper is swallowed up into the crowd, signing autographs and likely collecting phone numbers that will go unused. I find a quiet place to set down my bag and unzip the compartment holding my cell. _Eight messages_.

_8:20 E- So sorry I missed your text. Just woke up. Good luck! b_

_9:45 E-Watching the NESCAC blog. Wow, you and Jas are doing great! b_

_10:30 You're rocking it, Edward! So proud! b_

_11:45 Holy shit, what a lead! b_

_12:30 Eddie-Look at you go, dude! Call me! Em ps- we won _

_12:31 Edward, Your Mother and I are so proud of you. Congratulations on a fine win today. Love, Dad_

_12:33 E- Football game is over. We won. Emmett is only 20 yards away from college career receiving record! We're at the Cellar with a few of the players celebrating. Meanwhile, congrats on a great day! b_

_12:40 Edward- You gonna call me or WHAT? b_

Her last message brings a smile to my face, and I call her immediately. Her enthusiasm crackles through the digital network, and it feels like she's right here. If only.

**~BPOV~**

True to his word, Gil finds me in the stands and tosses me a spare jersey with a wink and a smile, drawing attention from curious spectators.

"You go, girl!" squeals Rose as I pull number 7 over my head. I pay more attention than usual to the goings-on out on the field. Emmett is having a huge day, and Rose's ass hardly meets the bleachers the entire three hours. I'm definitely preoccupied with the real number 7's whereabouts, especially since we're sitting so close, I can see the enamel of his teeth every time he turns around and smiles at me from the bench.

Meanwhile, I follow Edward's match on the NESCAC site with great interest and send Edward texts throughout, even though I know he can't receive my messages until the end. When he finally calls me at 12:45, Alice, Rose and I are tucked into a rowdy table at the Cellar with Emmett, Gil, and a couple others. I pop outside to talk with Edward.

"So, Emmett's about to break the record, huh?"

"Yeah, it was really exciting today, but it's going to be even better for him to do it for Homecoming. He says your parents are coming up next weekend?"

"Yeah. What about your Dad?"

"We haven't really discussed it. Anyway, congratulations! Jas too!"

"Thanks, Bella. It was a great day. I hope we can continue the momentum tomorrow."

"Of course you can! So what are you guys doing tonight?"

"The usual," he says, and I detect a note of disdain in his voice. "Head to a bar, watch a bunch of people drink too much, watch Jas text Alice all night, then hit the hay."

"Mm, lifestyles of the rich and famous."

"So what time is your date?"

"7:30. I'll try to connect with you later tonight, but definitely in the morning."

"Don't worry about it. You have a good time, and we'll talk tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay. And Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"I do miss you."

O)(O

I spare Connor the Rosalie treatment when he knocks on the door, giving her a quick,"Later, Rose," and scooting out. Once in the hallway, I happily note that Connor _not_ deprived of sleep is an even better sight than All-nighter Connor. He's sloppy casual, but I can tell he's fully alert, and whatever haphazard look he's sporting tonight probably took more time and attention than any guy would care to admit.

"You look nice," he comments, taking in my skinny jeans, boots, and long wrap.

"So do you," I answer honestly. "So, who's going to be at this party?" I ask with slight trepidation.

"My housemates, their girlfriends, a few friends, Riley might stop by…that's about it."

That doesn't sound too intimidating.

"Like I said before, Bella, they're usually pretty fun. But if you're not enjoying yourself, I'm happy to take off and do something else with you."

"Thanks, Connor. I'm sure it'll be a good time."

O)(O

Connor puts his arm around me and leads me to where the small crowd has congregated around the keg. He introduces me to his housemates and their girlfriends, and he pumps out a beer for each of us. They're talking about Homecoming, and how it's mostly a freshman event so they won't be participating. I remind myself to talk with Charlie tomorrow.

"More beer?" he asks, noticing my cup is empty.

"No thanks. I can't stand drinking all the empty calories now."

"We've got other stuff; would you rather have some wine? Or maybe vodka? We've got mixers."

"Sure, if it's not too much trouble."

"No worries. Let's check out the kitchen."

There are a bunch of girls in the kitchen, mixing up a storm, tasting as they go, spilling and giggling. "You have to try this, Bella," a girl called Victoria says, offering me something peach-colored. "We call it Love Potion No. 9." Giggles erupt as she hands me the drink.

I take a sip, and it's not half bad. "Mm, what's in here?"

Victoria points her long red fingernail from the beginning to the end of the row of bottles lined up on the counter, and they all burst out in fresh laughter.

O)(O

Around midnight, the party thins, the lights dim, the music still blares but it's slower now. Plastic cups and empty chip bags litter the room. Each piece of furniture is occupied by a couple in various stages of…coupling, and Connor and I stand awkwardly in the middle.

"Would you like to see my room?"

"Silly boy, I can't go up to your room with you. I don't even know your middle name."

"McGonigal," he answers swiftly. "Now, would you like to see my room?"

I'm curious and just tipsy enough to say, "Sure."

With one hand on my back, he helps me navigate the stairs, then aims me toward the last room at the end of the hall. He twists the knob, opens the door and ushers me inside. There's nowhere to sit except the bed, so I don't. Connor shuts the door behind us, and the click of the lock jars me with its finality. He chuckles when he sees how stiffly I'm standing.

I feel him close in behind me. He gathers all my hair in one hand and arranges it over my left shoulder. One finger slides teasingly from behind my right ear straight down my neck, stopping in the overly sensitive hollow where my shoulder begins. A chill rushes through my body, and again, I hear Connor chuckle. But this time, I also feel the sound echo in his chest, which is now pushed solidly against my back.

"Did you know you have an extremely sexy neck?" he whispers, small puffs of air fluttering across said neck with each word.

He trails his lips softly where his finger's just traveled, and the sensation overwhelms me. I hope his question was rhetorical, because there's no way I could form words right now.

His soft kisses cross my jawline and approach the side of my mouth. Connor gently turns my body so now we're facing each other. I'm thrown off momentarily by his changed appearance. His eyes are glazed over, and his mouth looks more serious than I'm used to. He looks almost…hungry. I wonder fleetingly if I appear the same way to him. I feel lightheaded and swoony and frankly, scared.

Through my haze, Charlie's perpetual warnings about being alone with boys in their bedrooms come through. Connor's not a stranger, I soothe myself. Then I take another look and realize I don't actually know this boy at all.

At that moment, he closes his lips over my mouth in an insistent kiss. Aided by the feel and taste of Connor, Rose's advice handily pushes Charlie's aside, and I take the opportunity to consider how this kiss racks up against Edward's. There's no denying it's nice or that I really, really seem to enjoy kissing boys. And truth be told, I couldn't really tell you that one kiss is better than the other. So now I'm pretty confused, because I was kind of hoping that I'd have my solution once we kissed.

It's not until we come up for air and really look at each other that I realize everything I needed to know. It's not Connor's lips that fall short of Edward's; it's his eyes. Not the fact that Edward's green eyes have tiny flecks of gold shooting out from their centers. Not that Edward's eyes radiate kindness and gentleness. Not even that Edward's eyes glow in the daytime sun as well as the darkness of the nighttime sky.

Because even if Connor's eyes did all those things, they still wouldn't reveal what Edward's eyes show me every time: he truly sees who I am, and based on that alone, he chooses me.

I'm sure if I didn't know all this about Edward, I could be perfectly happy kissing Connor for even longer. But now I just can't. No, I _can_, I just don't want to.

"Oh," he says perceptively. "I guess we're not on the same page."

"I'm sorry, Connor. You're not mad, are you?"

"Not mad. Just disappointed," he says with a sad smile. "I was hoping this might work."

"Would it be too much for me to ask you to walk me home?"

"Of course I'll walk you home."

**^EPOV^**

_Edward- It's 1 am and I know (hope!) ur sound asleep (alone!). Just got home and have I told u I really miss u? Setting my alarm for 8 so we can talk b4 u play. xb_

I don't fail to notice the "x" that has appeared before the now familiar lower case "b". I force myself to wait until 8:01 to call her.

"Mmm hello?"

"Oh shit. I woke you. Sorry, Bella. I thought you wanted to-"

"No, I'm up. I didn't want to miss wishing you luck."

"Well, go ahead then."

She laughs, "Good luck, Edward."

"Thanks. So…last night?"

"He's not you. What can I say?" I can hear the smile in her voice, and I love that I know her well enough to know exactly how it looks on her face right now.

"That says it all."

"And what about you? Crazed stalkers?"

"There's only one stalker I care about. I assume she'll be slavishly devoted to the blog today, watching my progress?"

"Where else would I be, Edward?"

"Hmm, I don't know, maybe out having brunch with the Holden offensive line?" Way to hide your insecurities.

A loud guffaw and then, "Not so much."

"All right, then. Good." As I say the word, I realize how fucking relieved I am, so like a moron I say it again. "Good."

She giggles at my infantile vocabulary. "Call me later?"

"As soon as I win." Jasper walks by as I zip my cell into the golf bag and pull on my glove.

"How we doing today, big boy?" he asks, dropping his balls onto the practice green next to me.

"I'm feelin' it," I warn him.

"Bring it, son."

O)(O

"Well, if you had to beat me, I'm glad it was your personal best. Congratulations, man. You played one hell of a round today," Jasper says most graciously, shaking my hand on 18.

"Thanks, Jas. All that chipping advice really paid off."

"I'd love to take credit for your win, buddy, but I think something entirely different got into you today. I've never seen you so focused and so relaxed at the same time."

I know exactly what's gotten into me, and the second I smile, so does he.

"Ah, fair Bella. You best go call her."

I can't wait to hear her voice, but I send her this text first: _You are hereby invited to a trophy viewing at 3 pm at MacNeil 301._

One second later, my phone's vibrating like crazy. "Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!"

"Hello to you, too," I answer, pulling the phone away from my assaulted ear.

"You did it, Edward! 2011 NESCAC Champion! Holy shit! You beat Jas!"

"I did, and the other 34 of them as well," I allow myself a moment of cocky joy.

"How do you feel? Was it great? You made it seem so easy! At least that's what they were saying!"

"It felt easy today. Like I couldn't miss, no matter what." I sigh, because that's exactly how it felt, but I'm not sure she understands that particular feeling.

"My last piano recital felt the same way! You practice and practice, and then you step up and everything just falls into place. Oh, Edward, I'm so happy for you!"

Of course she understands. She's Bella.

O)(O

At 2:55, I knock on her door. "Edward!" She throws her arms around me, and I drop my duffle in the hallway so I can hug her back. "What are you doing here? I was just about to come down to your room."

"I thought it might be a little dickish of me to celebrate in front of Jas. Hey, Rose."

She turns around from her desk to greet me, "Congrats, Edward."

Bella points down to my duffle. "So, let's see!"

I start unzipping my bag where it lies. "Well, come inside, you crazy fool."

I nudge my bag through the doorway and kick the door closed behind me. Bella hops onto her bed with an expectant expression and waves her hand in a 'hurry-up' gesture. I pull out the lump carefully nestled into the middle of my bag. Walking it over to her, I unwind the winner's jacket from the outside to unveil the hidden trophy beneath.

"Ta-da!" I say, immediately embarrassed for my overly dramatic display. I place it into her waiting hands.

"Wow. Shiny! Oh no, they spelled your name wrong…look at this…!"

"What? Are you fucking kid-"

"Hah! Gotcha!" she says.

"Nice, Bella. Real nice," I say, but I'm not even a little irritated and she knows it. "I wouldn't be surprised. I mean, after all, they got it wrong on my jacket."

"What? Lemma see that!" she says, ripping the collegiate letterman version of the Master's jacket from my other hand and examining the back.

I crack up at the look of concern she's now wearing. "Fair is fair," I chuckle.

"Just for that, you're not getting this back," she says, standing to pull the jacket around her shoulders and slide her arms through.

Something about her wearing my coat really pleases me, and I swirl my finger in a downward circle so she'll turn around. And there it is; my last name across her shoulder blades. I collect her hair and free it from the collar, letting it spill over my name.

"That looks good on you," I say. She blushes a cute shade of pink, and I know she understands my full meaning. Then her eyes shift minutely to her dresser, and I see something on top that makes my face red, but not for the same reason.

#7- Brophy's jersey.

I look away quickly, pretending I don't recognize what I've just seen. I don't trust myself right now to not be a possessive prick and make a comment that I know I'll regret. This has been such a perfect day, and I don't want anything to spoil it.

"Listen, Bella, I'm pretty wiped."

"Oh sure, I understand," she says, twisting her shoulder back to pull off the jacket.

I stop her by grasping the top of the jacket on each side at the collar. "Why don't you hang onto this for me?" I suggest.

"But Edward, you earned this."

"I like the way it looks on you." She smiles, and I add, "Especially the back."

While I'm holding her close, I reach in and give her a kiss that says I won't take no for an answer. I retrieve the long forgotten trophy from her bed and haul my duffle bag onto the opposite shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

**~BPOV~**

"That was totally hot," Rose comments, without lifting her eyes from her Econ book.

"Mmm," I respond, falling onto my bed and hugging Edward's jacket tightly around myself.

"You better get rid of Gil's jersey before Edward's next visit. Wow, does Little Cullen have a jealous streak!"

I remember Edward's line of poetry and shudder against the warmth of his jacket.

O)(O

"Of course, I'm planning to come, Bella. It's been on my calendar for months."

"That's what I was hoping," I respond, and I realize that I am quite happy that I'll get to see him so soon. "Where will you stay overnight?"

"Oh, we're just coming for the day on Saturday. I have to work Sunday. So, make plans for dinner. Whatever you want."

"We? As in, you and Sue Clearwater?"

"Yeah." I can practically hear him blushing across our digital connection. "That's okay, right?"

"That's great, Dad. I'll get two extra tickets to the game and meet you at the students' gate at 9."

"Perfect, Bells. Can't wait."

O)(O

I love Jonathan Safran Foer's writing style and his protagonist is compelling, but my eyes keep sliding over the top of _Everything Is Illuminated_ to the 'CULLEN' draped over my desk chair. I know when I'm cooked; I'm not going to be productive tonight. I give Edward an experimental poke.

_E- How's your trophy look on your bookshelf? b_

_B- Good, but where did my x go? –E_

_What x?_

_The one before the b._

I root back through my sent messages to my semi-drunk message from 1 am. Sure enough, there's a kiss that must've slipped through my filter in the wee hours of the morning.

I know now that I'm not a slut, because otherwise, I would've kept kissing Connor even after I realized he wasn't the one I really wanted to be kissing. But still, I crave Edward's kisses, which is entirely his own fault for being so damn addictive. So I mostly blame him for my shameless response.

_Your x is here, silly, in Warwick 303_.

_I'm coming to get it, and Brophy better not be on your chest._ I can practically hear the 'Grrrr'.

Luckily, I tucked away Gil's jersey on Rose's advice earlier, because as quickly as Edward moves down the hallway, I'm not sure I would've had time now. Edward knocks firmly not two minutes later, and when I open the door, he is all business. Without even looking to confirm that Rose isn't here, which thank goodness she's not, he's got eight fingers behind my neck and a thumb hooked firmly under each ear.

"Gimme," he says breathlessly, taking what he wants from me. As if I would've resisted.


	11. 10YearOld You

**11/7/2011**

**^EPOV^**

"I'm handing out a page of some of the more interesting stanzas. Overall, I'd say you did a great job working in pairs and trying out a different format. Go ahead and take some time to read these over while I pass back your papers."

'_Highly descriptive, and I applaud your use of the color green in a figurative sense. Your poetry around jealousy actually made my hair stand on end. Your writing styles blend together seamlessly; I cannot tell whose lines were whose. A'_

"Can I see?" she asks.

I feel my lips twist into a broad, happy grin while she reads. "If you would've told me three months ago that my freshman writing class would not only be my favorite class, but that I'd be earning an 'A', well…"

"Your disbelief would've matched mine if you'd have told me I'd be waking up at 6:45 on my off days to work on my short game."

I have to laugh. "Touché."

O)(O

"This week, each of you is going to write a letter to your 10-year-old self. In 500 words, you may write from the present, the past, your future - whatever suits you. Tell yourself whatever you think he or she should know. Have fun with this, but show me something meaty. See you Wednesday."

The class starts to pile out. "So, which night is better? Bella. Bella?"

"Oh, sorry. What were you saying?"

"Hey, you still want to go out with me this week, right?" I ask, holding my panic at bay.

"Of course."

"Phew, I thought I was losing my touch. I was just asking whether Tuesday or Wednesday is going to be better for you."

"Let's do Wednesday. That way, our peer review will be over with."

"Jeez, am I that bad?" I twist my face into a mock pout.

"No, Edward. Not you, this assignment. It's just going to be a little…rough, that's all."

I quickly do the calculation and realize what 10-year-old Bella would've been dealing with. "Oh. Shit. Sorry, Bella."

"It's not your fault, Edward." No, not that it happened. Just that I didn't realize that's what you were agonizing over for the last ten minutes.

"Tell you what. Your choice tomorrow morning- putting, chipping, driving range- you name it." I smile hopefully, willing her haunting memories to subside.

**~BPOV~**

"Riley, is it my imagination or are you throwing in a little extra torture today?"

He smiles sheepishly. "Connor showed up at my doorstep at 1 am Sunday morning. I may be taking it out on you just a bit."

"He did? He seemed fine when he dropped me off."

"Five more. Not so much."

"I'm sorry, Riley. I really like Connor. It's just…"

"Edward. We know. Right side now. Don't blame yourself, Bella. I should never have gotten his hopes up. It was obvious there was something between you and Edward. My poor brother never had a chance."

"I hope we can continue our arrangement. I really like Connor and I'm happy that I've been able to help him. And I definitely don't want to give up my workouts with you."

"I wouldn't drop you now, Bella. You're up to three chin-ups!"

O)(O

I open the door at 7:20 and Edward's just getting ready to knock. His eyes dance happily when he sees I'm wearing his jacket. I delight in the fact that it's huge on me, making me feel petite and delicate.

He's got a bunch of layers on, starting with a turtleneck and ending with a fleece vest. How either of us will swing a club is beyond me, but I couldn't care less. This is my Edward time, and I'm loving every minute.

"Want your jacket back yet?" I ask, hoping like hell he doesn't.

"I sure don't," he smiles. "So, have you made your big decision?"

I want what I always want- Edward's arms around me. "Driving range."

"Okay, but we're doing it right today. No testosterone."

"I'll be sure and control myself this time."

O)(O

He's standing in front of me, legs crossed, leaning on his club, looking delicious. He hands me his pitching wedge. "We haven't done this in a while. Do you remember what we talked about?"

"Vaguely." I don't want to piss him off or make him think I wasn't paying attention. I just _really_ want him to show me again. And again.

"Turn away, watch the ball, follow through…any of this ringing any bells?"

"Distant bells."

"Show me a practice swing." I do.

"Belt buckle to the clock behind you this time. Trust it."

I make more of an effort to turn but then totally miss the carpet. "Watch the ball. Try again."

I give it another try and completely lose my balance. He's watching me, puzzling over what to say next.

"What's a girl gotta do to get some assistance around here?" I ask with mock exasperation.

Quick on the uptake this time, Edward scoots quickly behind me, molding himself to my back and reaching his arms around to cover my hands on the grip.

"Here we go," he says with a low voice that he wasn't using before. "Turn away, swing through. You're too tight, loosen up. Let's go again. Ready? Back and through. Back and through. Feel that?"

Hells yeah, I feel that. Your mouth is right next to my ear and you're breathing down my neck. Your muscles are flexing all around me. Your body is all snuggly with mine, and I think I'll just melt now and let you carry me away…

"That's it! You're doing it!" His excited rumble knocks me out of my trance.

What? I am? I'm doing nothing. _Oh!_

"Step up to the tee. Ready? We're going to hit this one…back and through!"

The ball goes sailing and stops just short of the red flag 100 yards out. "Holy shit!" he observes glibly as we hold our statuesque finish.

"Did you feel that, Bella? That was a golf swing."

Really? I thought it was more of a swoon myself, but if he's happy, I'm ecstatic.

"Must be the jacket," I mumble.

**^EPOV^**

I never asked Bella what happened on their date, so I keep one suspicious eye on their backs as Emily and I review sine, cosine and tangents before my midterm. My jacket is draped around the back of her chair, my name clearly emblazoned for all to see. Connor's body language seems a little different today, he's sitting on his hands and there's actually some air between them. Good.

"Bella, wait up," I call out. Connor's just split off the other direction. "Let me walk you back to the dorm."

"I think I'm actually going to go back inside and write my outline now."

"Oh, okay." I scoop some hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. "Call me later? Let me know you're okay."

"Sure," she says.

I can't resist, and I don't see why I should, so I lean in and kiss Bella. "Bye."

O)(O

Meanwhile, I've got my own serious thinking to do about ten-year-old Edward. I rummage through my desk drawer for the picture I know I'll find: Dad and I winning our first father-son golf tournament at the Club.

I decide to take the perspective of my future self, say at age 35, just for kicks. Figuring by then, I'll have a solid career as a teaching golf professional, perhaps a wife, and-choke- a young son of my own? What do I want to tell this innocent little guy in the photo? Mostly, to use one of Emmett's favorite words, chillax.

My outline flows pretty easily once I get started. First, I'd comfort the little fella by explaining that he's not stupid after all, but a victim of a nasty situation called dyslexia that is a huge pain in the ass, but something that can be overcome with hard work. Then I'd tell him that his parents were right…about absolutely everything. Practice does make perfect, it's important to drink milk and eat spinach, and he really will be sorry that he lied to the dentist about flossing his teeth. And I can also comfort this kid about his awkward gawky appearance. That crazy red tint in his hair will set him apart, the square chin that they call 'Superman face' and those bushy dark brows will be the envy of every guy he knows and many he doesn't. And on the topic of girls, well… they don't have cooties.

I pack my notebook into my backpack and check my watch. It's 7:15 and I haven't heard from Bella yet.

_B-Still in the library? E_

_E- Yep. Gutting it out. Almost there. xb_

Well, at least I got the 'x'. That has to be a good sign.

_Meet me at the Caf?_

_I'd rather get this over with. K?_

_Sure._

O)(O

A whole hour later, she finally texts me that she's done. I'm waiting at her door with a salad I brought back from dinner. "Didn't want you to miss your microgreens tonight."

"Thanks, Edward, that was really sweet of you. I was just gonna have a power bar, but this is way better. Want to come in?"

"Sure, I'll keep you company while you eat."

"So, what are we going to do tomorrow night?

"How do you feel about bowling?"

"Love the shoes, can't bowl to save my life."

"That's because I've never shown you how to do it," I say confidently.

"Oh," she answers. "This is an instructional date?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?"

"It just seems like maybe I should have the chance to teach you something for once."

"You mean besides how to pass Psychology and write an 'A' paper?"

"Neither of those would really make a very exciting date," she observes.

"Okay. What do you want to teach me?"

"How about piano?" she suggests, grinning broadly.

"See, now, that sounds a whole lot harder than golf and bowling," I say, mildly frightened of how truly awful I might be at this new activity.

"Well, Edward, that's only because I've never shown you how to do it," she says, mirroring my earlier cocky smile.

**~BPOV~**

Even though everyone almost always sits in the same seats, Edward has dragged two chairs to an out-of-the-way spot in the corner of the room. I can't really blame him; I have had several emotional outbursts in peer review already, and there's no reason to think today will go smoothly.

"Your pick, Bella. You want to go first or should we do mine?"

"Wow, I get to pick everything all of a sudden. Golf drills, date activities, now this…"

"I'm wooing you," he says, adding an adorable smile.

Yes, you certainly are.

I dig out my notebook and pass it to my partner, my friend, my kisser, this guy who has come to mean so much to me. He immediately starts doing that thing where he rubs his index finger back and forth across his chin. He's wading through my pain and he probably doesn't realize it, but his head is shaking slightly as he goes. He's done now, and his eyes shift to mine cautiously. I can't blame him for not responding. There's a tangle of hurt so deep he probably doesn't know where to start.

"Bella," he starts, his voice raspy and tentative. "Do you honestly _still_ believe that it's your fault she left?"

"I realize that she had some character defects, and she wasn't the easiest person to live with. But she and my Dad loved each other and they were doing fine until they started disagreeing on how to deal with my flaws."

"Your flaws? You mean, that you sometimes tracked mud into the kitchen? Or that you wouldn't practice piano for more than two hours every day? Or…" he glances down at my outline for more ammunition, "…that your friends occasionally called the house after nine o'clock?"

I nod silently, the memory of my shame and failings washing over me. He tactfully fails to mention my alarming and sudden shift toward obesity.

"So, your Dad would defend you and your Mom would get angry at both of you?"

"Basically."

"I'm sorry, Bella," he says quietly, almost sounding defeated. "It's not my place to say, but I can't help feeling really angry that they made you feel that you were in some way responsible for your mother abandoning the two of you. I mean, you were just a kid, for God's sake. You weren't supposed to be perfect. Parents are supposed to deal with shit like that."

I laugh a hollow, ugly cackle. "I guess they skipped over that chapter in the parenting handbook."

"Can't you offer this poor, sad girl anything to help her through the shit storm that's about to suck her under?" he taps the notebook lightly, almost protectively.

"Should I line up the clichés? _Time heals all wounds. It wasn't meant to be. God doesn't give you more than you can handle_. It's all bullshit, Edward."

"But you _did_ come out the other side, even if you're still stuck in this belief that you really did cause the abandonment. How did you get through?"

"What choice did I have? Charlie and I had to keep going."

"And you did. Tell her that…maybe?"

"I'd like to tell her not to drown her sorrows in Mallomars and fettuccine alfredo, because that shit didn't do me any good at all."

"I think you should," he encourages, sensing that maybe we will live through this hour after all.

"And maybe I'll even tell her that one day, a boy in her Freshman English class will give her the best kiss of her whole entire life."

"She'd probably appreciate knowing that right about now," he agrees.

He's done it again, and this time without a single tear. "All right, enough about me. Let's see yours."

He slides his handwritten outline over to my desk. "Wait," he says, covering the paper with one hand. "I have a visual aid." My curiosity grows as Edward fishes around his backpack, finally excavating a thin notebook. Opening the front cover, he carefully produces a photo and hands it to me.

A younger version of Dr. Cullen, clad in khakis and bright blue polo shirt, squints into the sun and smiles broadly into the camera. His left arm is wrapped around the shoulders of his similarly clad son. Between them, they both grasp a large silver bowl, which the caption explains: 2003 Orange Country Club Father/Son Champions. I pull the photo closer so I can take a good, hard look at little Edward. His tan cap does little to contain the wild tangle of his blondish-brownish-reddish hair. And though the bill of the cap sets his face in shadows, I can easily make out his shining green eyes and a smile as wide as his whole face. Edward's bright, happy expression is surpassed only by Carlisle's fatherly pride.

As the oversized paws of a Labrador retriever pup foreshadow the graceful adult version of itself, Edward's 10-year-old body holds the scrumptious promise of blossoming into the muscle-bound man sitting beside me.

"I'm the one on the right," Edward quips, the incongruence of his manly voice snapping me from my reveries about the boy.

"Was this your first trophy then?"

He ponders for a moment, then smiles wistfully. "Not mine. But our first as a team."

"How many of these were there?"

He smiles. "Seven more after this." He laughs lightly and says, "They were pretty relieved when I turned 18 and became ineligible."

"God, your Dad looks so proud."

"Golf was the legacy that he could pass on to me, once it became pretty clear I wasn't going to become a doctor."

"When did that happen?"

"Somewhere around kindergarten," he laughs darkly. "So, anyways…" he indicates his outline.

With a dreamy sigh, I set young Edward on my desk and dig into his outline. He's been especially creative this time, choosing the unique perspective of a future self. It's hard to tell from just the broken phrases of the outline, but it seems he's also chosen a whimsical tone. The lightness of his approach coats my previous darkness like a sticky sweet layer of Pepto Bismol soothing an irritated stomach.

"What?" he prods, demanding to know what I'm reading right now.

"You played the bassoon? I just don't see it."

"Mom thought we should be well-rounded, but that only lasted until she learned how much pain can be inflicted by a woodwind instrument."

"Does that mean Emmett-?"

"Actually, Emmett went with brass…French Horn," he cringes. "It sounded like someone was strangling a baby moose."

I can't contain my amusement at the image of a younger, burly, red-faced, puckered-lipped Emmett curled around a brass instrument. "So they had to settle for two star athletes instead?"

"Something like that," he says modestly.

"Edward, this is seriously excellent. Even without the picture, I get a really vivid image of this young boy and his fears, hopes and dreams. And maybe even a glimpse into what you might be like a bit down the road."

And wouldn't I love to be part of _that_ picture? I can't quite resist poking just a bit, at the soft underbelly. "So, when exactly did you learn that girls don't have cooties?"

Now he blushes full-on. Edward takes an exaggerated look at his watch, "Oh, will you look at that? We're out of time."

_Holy shit!_ I've hit pay dirt!

**^EPOV^**

This is _so_ not the time or place for that conversation. We've somehow managed to navigate Bella's Difficult Moment without tears, and I'm not about to bring Francesca DiLullo onto the scene right now. Bella raises a questioning brow, but I squelch that sucker.

"Stick to the point, Swan. Any _useful _critique you'd like to add?"

She sits back in her chair, curiosity set firmly on the back burner. Taking up my page once again, she reviews my outline. "I really think you've got plenty here, but I suppose I was wondering about how your Mom was doing at this point in your life. I mean, her attack happened, what, two years earlier? Is she better? Is she herself? Would you offer any advice to this Edward that might help him or the rest of your family through? And what's your relationship with Emmett like?"

Happy to be back in safe territory, I say, "Now that's more like it." Per usual, her suggestions are difficult but wise. I gesture for my paper, and I make a couple notes. "Thanks, Bella."

She crosses her arms and regards me shrewdly. I fully understand we will be revisiting the conversation I cut short.

O)(O

"So, will you still be availing yourself of my services after golf season's over?" Riley asks, as I perform my inside-out crunches.

"Yes, but I'll probably cut back to once a week."

"That's fine, but I'd hate to see you lose the definition you've built up."

"I really owe you, Rile. This is the best shape I've ever been in."

"Enjoy it," he chuckles. "There's really nothing better than being an 18-year-old male. But it seems you already know that."

For the first time ever, I detect a slight note of hostility in Riley's tone. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, sorry. Let's do ten of those on the other side."

I balance on my red ball and stop exercising. "Ri, talk to me. Have I done something wrong?"

He blows out a breath and says, "Aw shit, this is totally unprofessional of me. You're fine. It's just that Connor really thought he had a chance with Bella."

"And?" I ask hopefully.

"And…he doesn't."

Well, this is news to me. Really fucking great news, in fact.

"And I really shouldn't have raised his hopes, because it was so obvious from the first time you brought her here that you two were going to get together."

I flashed back to Bella's first workout session with Riley, her awkwardness among all the big plastic balls, her determination to start doing the hard work. What I couldn't ferret out was any indication that we were interested in each other. "It was?" I puzzle out loud.

Riley places his hands on his hips and gives me a disgusted look. "Come on, Edward. You were playing the big, bad bodyguard the whole time, even coming back across campus to walk her home. Don't you think that was maybe just a tiny bit above and beyond?"

"Pshhh," I exhale, feeling myself deflate in acceptance. "It's not that I came back. I couldn't actually bring myself to leave."

"Oh brother," he smiles not unkindly. "You had no idea, did you? I mean, I _asked_ you before I set Connor loose. You said there wasn't anything there. I should never have believed you."

"Sorry?" And I mean it. I am. Because the last thing I wanted, in retrospect, was that kind of competition.

Riley shakes his head, but the small amused smile returns. "Get back to work, Cullen."

O)(O

"Can I just admit that I'm terrified right now?" I confess when Bella opens the door.

"I promise I'll be gentle." She grabs a tote bag with intimidating musical paraphernalia poking out, says goodbye to Rose, and pushes out the door. Bella exudes a rare confidence that I've only previously witnessed when she was coaching me with my class work. My own anxiety aside, I'm excited to see where the evening will go.

"Have you eaten yet?" I ask.

"No. You want to grab a bite at the caf first?"

"How about the Green Machine instead?" I suggest.

"Perfect," she answers. "It's right on the way."

**~BPOV~**

What Edward doesn't realize is that I'm terrified as well. We'll be on my territory tonight, and I'm eager to be enough for him. If he's expecting me to be as amazing at the piano as he is on the practice green, I'm sure to fall short. I push the thought away as I swallow my last bite of quinoa and dab my face with the recycled-paper napkin. He's finished long ago, a combination of gobbling everything down like a guy and not really taking pleasure in this food.

I set my face back into what I hope is a confident expression, push myself up from the table, and prompt, "Ready?"

"As ready as I'm going to get," he says.

It occurs to me that neither of us is actually looking forward to what's coming next. And this is supposed to be a date, not torture.

"Edward, would you rather just go do something else? We can still go bowling. Or just take a walk…"

He stands quickly and takes my hand. "No, Bella. I'm only kidding. I can't wait to see you in action."

Fantastic. I break our connection and reach down to draw my tote handles over my shoulder, but Edward grabs it away from me and takes my hand back in his. If I can't be kissing Edward, then holding hands is my next favorite activity. His long slender fingers wrapped around mine inspire a mini-fantasy where Edward turns out to be a phenomenal piano player and I swoon longingly from next to him on the small bench while he serenades me with music he has composed just for me.

I realize my gait has slowed when he squeezes my fingers gently. "Don't tell me I put you to sleep _again_? Jesus, you're upright this time! I must be the most boring man in the history of all mankind!"

I bump my shoulder against his arm and insist once again, "I told you, I wasn't sleeping."

He chuckles, "Okay, Bella."

We finally reach Thomas Hall, the performing arts building where all the music classes and practice rooms are located. I pull the key ring from my tote bag and open the front door. A piercing tone emits from the alarm keypad and my fingers shake as I punch in the code. Mercifully, the noise stops after the fourth number, and my breathing returns to normal. I've never actually come to the building after hours before, and sensing how deserted it feels now, I don't think I'd ever want to be here alone.

"This way," I lead him, down the dark corridor to the stairwell.

"So how does an English major get the keys to Thomas Hall?" he asks, mirroring my own question to him about the bag room.

"The Head of the Music Department used to be a friend of my mother's before she…disappeared. She's kept in touch with Charlie all these years, watched my progress. She told me I'm always welcome here, as long as I keep up the piano."

"So how often do you come here?" he asks, pulling open the door to the stairway.

"This is only the second time," I admit ruefully. "I came once during Orientation Week, when I was trying to find my place. It helped me feel more at home, I guess."

"And you haven't been back since? Is that good or bad?" Leave it to Edward to put his finger on the essential question once again.

"Mostly good. I've found other…comforts. You know, Rose…" I start down the stairs to the basement level, where the practice rooms are located.

"Me." He pauses while he says this, waiting for my acknowledgment, but I plow downward.

"Alice."

"Me." Now he's three steps above me and not moving. God, he's so cute.

"Riley." Down, down.

"Me." He's holding the tote and standing firm, projecting his voice a little louder each time, and it's echoing wildly off the empty stairwell.

"Emmett. Jasper. Angela." I know I've pushed the last of his buttons and I stop and look up. He's a full flight above me now. Suddenly, he starts galloping down the stairs. Every six or so, he throws in a 'me'.

"Me." Gallop, gallop, gallop. "Me." Gallop, gallop, gallop. "Me." Gallop, gallop, gallop.

He's right on top of me now, one step above the bottom landing where I'm waiting. "Me," he insists one last time, his serious eyes bearing down on me with the intensity of a halogen lamp sizzling into my eye sockets.

"You," I finally agree, helpless against his charms.

He takes my chin in his hand and bends over, capturing my lips in a possessive, insistent kiss. His tongue passes right through my lips, letting me know he means business. This is not the same boy who sat sweetly next to me in class this morning. This Edward takes no prisoners, though I would oh so willingly be his right now. I open my eyes just before he lets me gasp in a gulp of air, and I see that his eyes are pinched closed in what looks to be a desperate, somewhat pained expression.

With all that same intensity, his eyes slowly open and his final whispered word washes across my tingling lips.

"_Me."_ With a slight nod confirming his claim, he loosens his grip on my chin and continues down the last step, walking past me to open the fire door.

_Holy. Freaking. Sexy. Message. Received_. My feet feel rooted in the harsh cement floor, but somehow, I manage to propel myself forward and out of the stairwell.

O)(O

My hands shake slightly as I jangle the key in the lock. "Here, let me," he says, taking over, while I continue to struggle to regain my sense of equilibrium. Of course, the knob twists easily under his ministrations and next thing you know, the two of us are locked inside the tiny soundproof room, deep in the basement of Thomas Hall. The nearest living creature is probably a block away, I note with a humorless laugh.

All of a sudden, I'm nervous as hell. _You know this boy. You like this boy. You trust this boy_. My mantra repeats on an infinite loop as I thrust my hand along the wall to locate the light switch. The harsh fluorescents kick on noisily but then die down to a dull hum, adding their own bass line to the soundtrack of whatever will take place in this small, stifling room.

"Where do you want me?" Edward asks eagerly.

_Where don't I want you?_ I answer by pointing to the left side of the tiny artist's bench. He rolls up his sleeves and pushes up the sweater to his elbows. He flexes his fingers playfully over the keys. "Ready!"

Gawd. How is it that I'm the nervous one in here? This is supposed to be my place! I give my head a little rattle to try and physically shake away the nerves I'm feeling. I walk around and take my place to the right of him on the bench, pleased to see that we fit together.

Donning my piano teacher persona, I start, "Okay, you've probably heard this before, so the rhythm should be easy. It's called 'Heart & Soul' and it goes like this." I play the familiar arpeggio line, then show him how to simplify to just repeated notes. "We'll start this way, and then we can get as complicated as you like. Here. Meet Middle C."

I place his right hand over the five notes he'll need, from G through D, gently pressing his fourth finger down on Middle C. He gives over control compliantly.

"Well, hello there, C. Nice to meet you," he jokes. I roll my eyes but I don't mean it.

"So, this-" I press down his thumb, "is G. G-A-B-C-D. Get it?"

"I get A through D, but why does G come before A?" Now he's serious.

"You really didn't get very far with the bassoon, did you? There are only seven notes, A through G, so after that it repeats. Here's how you use the black keys to guide you." I show him how to locate all the C's on the keyboard.

"Okay, I'm with you now."

"All right, find Middle C again and set your hand in place." He does so perfectly. "Now, put your left hand on the same notes, one octave down." He does that, too.

"Good."

"Thanks," he smiles up eagerly. The perfect student.

"Okay, here we go. 2, 4, 1, 5. 2, 4, 1, 5," I sing, showing him how his left hand corresponds to the notes.

He's not watching his fingers any more; he's smiling up at me. "What?" I ask.

"You sing."

I snort. "If you want to call it that."

"How did I not know this?" he questions.

"It's a well-kept secret."

"Not anymore."

"Can you repeat what I just sang?"

He shrugs. "Sure," and he does. Flawlessly.

I smile back now. "Hmmm."

"What?" he asks, smiling so hard his face might break.

"You sing, too."

O)(O

The second I hear him sing it, I know it will be an insignificant leap to playing it. His fingers easily follow the path of his voice. Of course, he'd be massively coordinated. Throw in the musical ear, and the long slender fingers (Nnngg!) and you have all the makings of a pianist.

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" I quiz him.

"Pretty sure."

"Well, I'm graduating you to the next step."

Before long, he is playing the full bottom part on his own, and I am off improvising the melody line in all kinds of fanciful ways. There are a few bloopers along the way, but he rights himself and catches up like a champ.

"Okay, you're ready for Billy Joel."

"Seriously?" he smiles as if I've just handed him an all-day sucker at the carnival.

"Let's go." I pull out the sheet music for 'She's Got a Way'.

"Uh-oh," he says, his happy expression all but erased.

_Duh, Bella. _"Oh," I say dismissively, "that's for me, not you. I have a pretty lousy memory for music."

"Well, if that looked like hieroglyphics to you, my guess is that your memory would improve pretty quickly."

"So, I'm gonna show you these four chords- what, once?- and you're just going to be able to remember?"

His smile returns, and I see the tension in his shoulders release.

"Four chords? Yeah, I think I can handle that."

And then he proves it. And he's humming along while he concentrates, and he's trying so hard and doing so well, and I'm finally relaxing.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?" he asks, only half paying attention, while he keeps moving through the chord progression.

"Thanks for coming here with me."

"Thanks for bringing me." And even though he keeps looking at his hands and playing, his smile broadens just enough that I know he got the message loud and clear.

**^EPOV^**

She's damn lucky she doesn't mention Connor or Gil in the stairwell. As it is, my inner caveman is already "outer", and the results could've been downright dangerous. I know I'm making her nervous again, but I think it's the good kind, an edgy excitement that should let her know this is more than friendship.

I'm surprised and delighted to hear Bella carry a tune. Not that I wouldn't still be interested if she were tone deaf, but this is just so much better. I guess Bella understands a little better that it wasn't just the usual challenges of a double reed instrument that prevented me from progressing with the bassoon, but that reading music was yet one more thing my dyslexic mind couldn't quite process, at least not without an inordinate level of frustration for all involved.

We're back at her door too quickly, and I'm not ready for this to end, but we both have some place to be at 7:30 in the morning. Not the night for an extended goodbye.

"Thanks for my piano lesson, Bella."

"You were great. 'Highly teachable' in fact."

"I think this is a pretty good gig we've got going here. I teach you, you teach me."

"Tag, you're it," she says lightly.

"Hmmm, what will I teach you next?" I ponder, knowing exactly what I'd like to teach her next, but having no clue if she's ready or willing to learn. _Cut it out, you horndog_.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she teases.

"Well, for now, I think we should just work on perfecting your last lesson." With that, I dip slowly in toward her lips and take her much more gently than before. As usual, she waits for my tongue to go first, but she follows eagerly this time. I break away before we get too crazy, because I honestly think she has no idea what these kisses do to me.

"Mmm, I must be an excellent teacher," I gloat, causing her to blush in the well-lit hallway. One day, we're not going to end our date here, but that day is sadly not coming this weekend, because my parents will be here.

"Hey, what happened with your Dad? Is he coming for Homecoming?"

"Yes, he's bringing his girlfriend, and they're just coming for the day on Saturday."

It's a scary idea, but what the hell. "You know, Rosalie and her parents are having dinner with us Saturday night. Would you all like to join us as well?"

Her face gets kind of cloudy and I lose my ability to read her thoughts. "I don't know, Edward. My Dad's not really like your parents. And he's most definitely not like Rose's folks. He's kind of just…you know, _him_. Boston cop, single Dad, simple guy…"

Oh shit, she's worried my parents will make him uncomfortable? "Well, how about this then? Why don't we all sit together at the game, and see how everyone meshes. If it seems like it's working, we can make it sound casual and just invite you guys along. If not, well, at least I will have gotten to meet your Dad."

She grins and says, "You better be careful, Edward. He carries a loaded weapon at all times."

"Oh yeah? Well, so do I." _Chew on that, Bella Swan_.

"On that lovely note," she rolls her eyes at me before turning around to unlock her door.

O)(O

But I'm the one who chews on it. All night. Tossing and turning. Bella stretched over the keyboard and under me in the still, soundproof practice room. Charlie Swan crashing the door down, guns a-blazing. His pistol firing at my own…loaded weapon. I wake up in a cold sweat and a tangle of wet sheets. Maybe this get-together is a little premature after all. By the time I reach Bella's door at 7:20, I'm feeling almost normal again, but the nightmare brushes against the edges of my consciousness leaving me slightly frazzled.

She regards me for a moment but doesn't say anything. After all, it's early in the morning. Small puffs of steam precede each of us as warm breath meets the chilly fall morning. My internal clock recognizes the familiar waning of the golf season.

"Okay if we putt? My match is today, since we're off this weekend."

"Of course. Whatever you want."

**~BPOV~**

Edward's unusually pensive today. Now that I've gotten to know him, I see that he is a man of many moods. Sweet, serious, romantic, playful, and as insecure as he is confident. The common thread throughout is an intensity that pulls me into his orbit and makes me want to lose myself there.

We hardly speak today, and when I take long breaks to stretch my back, Edward doesn't comment. He's got his game day face on, and that's its own unique brand of intensity.

"Can you come watch this afternoon?" he asks. "My tee time is 2:00."

"I can't be there until 4:30."

"Just text Alice when you're close and she'll tell you which hole to find us on."

"Or I can just follow the sound of the squealing girls."

He rolls his eyes but doesn't bother denying the truth.

O)(O

I don't tell Edward that I've got Connor at 3, because he doesn't need to be thinking about that while he's playing. Besides, there's no reason for Edward to worry at all. We're back to the library, and Connor's nothing but a gentleman. I kind of miss the flirting, but I know that's not fair. It's just that it felt really nice to be wanted.

I head straight to the course when we're finished, and Alice directs me to the 13th green. "How are they doing?" I whisper.

"Holden's getting crushed, but Jas and Edward are way ahead in their matches."

"How's his putting today?"

"Sixteen putts in twelve holes."

"Is that good?"

"Yuh, Bella. That's good."

I'm just in time to watch Edward sink his ninth one-putt of the day. He pulls the ball out of the hole and his eyes catch mine on the way back up. A huge smile lights up his face and he salutes me with the ball in his hand. I'm a quiet fan, so I squeal inwardly at his display, but the same does not hold true for the group of girls all around me, who seem to have mistakenly hijacked his gesture as their own. Suddenly, I'm caught in a mess of "Ooohh" and "Ahhh" and "God, he's so hawwwwt" and "Mmmm, Sexward" and my least favorite, "I love you, too!"

Alice grabs my hand and pulls me from the insane vortex. "Ignore, ignore, ignore." And we're on the next tee even before Edward and Jasper reach it. I give Edward a thumbs-up through my knit gloves and he chuckles at me. Jas says something to him after his own tee shot, and Edward steps up and hits a monster drive. I adore watching him in his element. I learn that there is virtually no way for his opponent to catch up, barring complete tragedy or forfeiture on Edward's part. So now he's just coasting, which only seems to make him play better and better.

"If Edward sinks this putt," Alice tells me on 18, "he's bested his record _again_."

Edward lines up confidently and sinks the putt with apparent ease. He and Jasper share a moment of celebration before he finds me in the crowd. Now, I'm having a harder time containing my enthusiasm, and Alice and I are jumping up and down. His playing partners pick up their balls, shake hands, and congratulate Edward and Jasper. Edward comes directly over to spin me around in celebration.

"I'm so happy for you!" I gush.

He sets me down reluctantly and says, "I have to go inside for one minute. Don't go anywhere."

The second he leaves, the vultures descend. "Who the fuck're you?" one particularly evil buxom blonde demands.

"Excuse me?"

"Cullen's ours," another one says.

"Huh?"

"_Huh? What? Say who?"_ they tease evilly. "_Ours_, you stupid cow. Sexward belongs to Cullen's Coochies."

"You use that word to describe _yourselves_?" I can hardly believe my ears. It's tantamount to calling yourself the other 'C' word.

"What an ignorant bitch!" one snarks to another.

I turn to find Alice, my savior, but she's on the other side of the crowd now, all wrapped up in Jasper, and won't be helping me out this time. I try her mantra, "Ignore, ignore, ignore." But they're insistent.

"What do you think she could possibly think he would see in _her_?" one asks, making the 'her' sound like the scum on a sewer rat's belly.

"Beats me. She must put out." This comes from a girl whose hair is fire engine red along the bangs and ponytail and black elsewhere.

"Who wouldn't?" another responds. Peals of giggles follow.

"No shit. Wouldn't we all love to be the next Britney?"

"Oh, to be Britney…" Dreamlike sighs ensue.

"Fuck, can that girl tweet!"

"Bless her slutty heart! I felt like I was under Sexward myself!"

"Oh my gawwwd, that lucky bitch!"

I'm pretty thick, but the message is starting to get through. These fangirls are all united , and they've got Edward on some kind of Sex Watch blog. And apparently, there's been something to watch.

I rack my brain but can't come up with anyone I know named Britney from Holden, and she's obviously not here now. Which leads me to believe she's someone he must've hooked up with on the road, if what they're saying is true. And while they're beastly, these "Coochies" don't appear to be making this story up.

I see the bronze head of hair emerge from the scorer's booth, and I know I can't stick around one second longer. I've walked to the course a hundred times, but this is the first time I run the whole distance back. My throat and lungs are burning, and I remember that awful night of the scavenger hunt. I was foolish enough to believe that my days as a big, fat loser were behind me. But I'm right back there again. I dissolve into fits of tears once I finally reach my room. Nausea takes the place of the burning, and I tamp it down with forced deep breaths.

The rational side of my brain kicks in finally, challenging me. _Since when did Edward and I ever promise that we were exclusive? _

Never. Look at me, still harboring a crush on Gil and feeling sad that Connor doesn't flirt with me anymore.

_What did you think? That an 18-year-old hunk of man like Edward would be satisfied with a few kisses here and there? _

I thought that's what masturbation was for.

_Yeah, right. He's got a platoon of warm, willing girls following him from coast to coast and you really expect him to go beat off in a lonely hotel room instead?_

But he specifically told me he wasn't like that!

_What? When?_

After he asked me out the first time. When I asked him why it took him so long to ask. He said we were getting to know each other, that he's not the kind of guy who takes these things lightly. And that he hadn't been with any other girls since he's been at school.

_That ain't exactly what he said._

Think, Bella! I replay the scene in my head, digging for his exact language. And the minute I retrieve the words, my blood runs cold. "How many girls _have you seen me with_ since we've been here?"

**^EPOV^**

"Alice, what happened to Bella?"

"I don't know. She was just standing here a minute ago."

"This is weird." I pull out my cell and text Bella: _B- I lost you. Where'd you go?–E_

I get no answer. Before I can call her, I'm surrounded by the screaming girls that have been vying for my attention all afternoon. One rips off my hat while another more brazen girl starts unbuckling my belt.

"Hang on, girls," I beg, trying to be polite in the face of their ruthless pursuit.

They're snapping photos with me and planting kisses on my face and running their hands up and down my chest and wherever else they can reach.

"Hey, come on!" I'm getting frantic now. Where did all the security people go? They usually keep the 'Coochies' at bay. I decide I may as well put them to good use while they're here.

"Did any of you see a brunette, about yay high, wearing my name on her back? She was here a minute ago."

They erupt in laughter. "We chased off the skank so you could be with us!"

"What?" A warning siren cuts through the fog. I grab the girl with the weird hair, who I believe to be the most likely to give me a sane answer.

"Ooohh," she squeals.

"Tell. Me. What. You. Said." I'm gritting my teeth, trying to hold myself together. It wouldn't do to lose it in front of this crowd. Whatever I do is probably being videotaped right now on someone's phone and will be tweeted within three minutes.

"Easy, Baby. You don't have to get rough. I mean, sure, I'd love it if you did, but –"

"Just answer the question please," I bite out.

"We asked her who she was," she said.

"And?"

"And we pondered out loud why you'd ever be with a girl like her."

"And?" my voice rises two pitches with each repetition.

"And we figured she must be easy, and easy led straight to Britney," she says shamelessly.

"AND?" This last one isn't even a question. It's an angry desperate cry, because I sense the punch line is coming.

"And we were just reminiscing about Britney's tweets-"

"FUCK!" I scream at the top of my lungs. I'm angry as hell at these slutty girls for hurting Bella, but deep down, I know it wasn't what they did; it was my own actions that really hurt her. And I have no fucking clue if I can fix this.

My instinct is to run to Bella and beg for her forgiveness. But for what?

_You two weren't even together when this happened, _says the devil on my left shoulder.

_You know what you told her_, says the disappointed angel on the right.

_You never said you weren't getting some on the road_, argues the devil.

_Semantics. You knew what you were doing when you made that distinction. Now she'll never believe anything you say_, chastises the angel.

I grab a handful of hair on each side of my head and try to quiet the voices arguing across my shoulders. I feel a hand on my shoulder and bat it away.

"Hey, hey, Edward. What's happening here?" says Jasper. His familiar voice breaks through my misery and I answer him as honestly as I can.

"I think I fucking blew it with Bella."

His arm slips around my shoulders and I let him lead me away from the crowd. I crouch down when I feel the first wave of nausea strike. Soon, my lunch is lying on the ground in front of me.

O)(O

_Bella- I'm so sorry for whatever you overheard_

Fuck, that's lame. That's not even why I'm sorry. I erase the false start and try again: _Bella- Can we please talk? I'm so sorry! –E _

Satisfied that it's the best I can do, I hit send. No response. Not that I was expecting one, just vehemently hoping that she might give me a chance to explain myself.

Somehow, Jasper drags my sorry ass back to the room, convincing me not to go down to her room and tear the door off its hinges, which is my heart's idea of a good plan.

"Give her some time, Edward."

"How the fuck is _that_ going to help, Jas? " I snap back. "She's probably trolling the Coochies' blog as we speak."

He crosses his arms and says, "Do you even know what's on there?"

"Fuck, no. What do you think? I sit around Googling myself for fun?"

He shrugs, which tells me he's done it before. "How are you going to respond if you don't even know what she knows?"

I sit on the edge of my bed and bend over so my nose is between my knees. I try covering my head with my hands, but nothing dulls the pain. The pain I've caused being a total lying asshole.

Jasper's feet appear in my line of vision. "Edward, you want me to look for you?"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." I can't get past the word. I'm rocking and swearing. It's all I can figure out to do.

I hear the tapping of the keyboard and a few minutes later, Jasper's defeated groan.

"How bad?" I choke out.

"Bad. Well, I mean, Britney has only the best things to say about you, but it's extremely detailed."

A horrible wail leaves my body.

"The rest of it is all garbage, nothing incriminating. That girl Julie from Bowdoin wrote that you were a gentleman."

"Yeah, great, all I did was maul her tits in the corner of a dark, smelly bar."

"Yes, well apparently you refused the blow job she offered you."

"Oh my fucking god! That's really in there?"

"They're brutal," he says.

"Jas, what the fuck am I going to do?"

I lift my head, hoping against hope that my roommate has the answer.

He spreads his arms in a gesture of helplessness. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know what to tell you."

It figures that Jasper is fresh out of advice.

My phone buzzes. I answer and pull it desperately to my ear without even wasting time to look at the caller id.

"Bella?" my heart picks up in a rare moment of optimism.

"Do I _sound_ like Bella?"

"Em." The disappointment cuts a new wound in my gullet.

"Yeah, I'm fucking happy to hear your voice too. What the fuck did you do to Bella? Rosie says she's a complete mess and it's all your fault."

I lose it then, hearing my older brother's assessment of my totally fucked up situation. I hold onto the phone like it's the last life raft on the Titanic, and I sob like a girl.

"Fuck, Eddie. I'm coming over. Don't do anything till I get there. You hear me?"

I moan out something that sounds almost like 'yeah' and let the phone fall from my hand onto the bed next to me.

I spend the next fifteen minutes face down with my pillow over my head, and don't move when I hear Emmett's knock. Jas lets him in and I hear the low murmur of their conversation as he quickly briefs Emmett of my pitiful situation.

"Lemme see that shit," Emmett says, pushing through to Jasper's laptop.

"All right, all right, all right," he repeats as he scrolls through the pages. "This isn't so bad. At least, they're not saying you have a tiny pecker."

"Aarrggghh," I wail, but it's muffled by the pillow.

I feel a heaviness settle on my bed next to me, and I'm rolled toward the dip. Emmett's big hand falls onto my shoulder blade. "Honestly, I've seen way worse. Did you hear about the Duke University Fuck List? Come on, Edward, talk to me."

Emmett is calm and in charge of the situation now, and I have to admit, I feel a glimmer of hope. I flip over and lift the pillow."Bella is never going to forgive me. Or trust me."

"Why not? Is she not aware of what a stud you are? I mean, this was before you two started…whatever it is you're doing, right?"

"Yes," I answer. "But I sort of led her to believe I'm not the kind of guy to have a one-night stand."

"I was under the same impression myself, actually," he says, revealing his surprise and a twinge of big brotherly disappointment.

Now I truly feel like a piece of shit. I steal a glance at Jasper, whose fucked up idea of a smart plan was Britney from Boston. He looks guiltily back, acknowledging his part in this shit storm. Not that I have anyone to blame but myself.

"All right, look. The damage is done. Now you've got to stand up like a man and fix things. Make it right."

"How am I supposed to do that, Emmett?" God, I sound like a pussy.

"First of all, figure out exactly what you did wrong. Half-truths are the same as lies, any girl will tell you that. So don't even try to justify yourself."

"Okay," I answer glumly. He's right, and I know it.

"Second, don't give these…fans," he waves derisively at the laptop, "anything more to tweet about. Even if it's refusing a BJ. That's not going to win you any points with Bella, trust me."

I nod. That one seems obvious.

"Lastly, get down on your hands and knees and beg, for all you're worth."

"You've done this, Em?" I can't picture my strapping mass of a big brother begging for anything.

"Yes, Eddie. I've done it many a time. Why do you think I keep a spare set of kneepads in my closet?"

"I'm sure I don't want to know," I say, finally feeling like smiling for the first time all evening.

"On the upside," he offers, seeing that my mood is lifting, "Britney has some awfully nice things to say about your technique. So kudos there, little bro."

I give him a half-hearted slug in the shoulder.

He acts hurt, "What? I'd do you myself after reading how eager you are to please." He dons this high falsetto voice and says, "And please me, he did. Over and over and over." He ends with his hands folded over his heart and his eyelashes fluttering Betty Boop style.

I sit up, somewhat interested now that I feel like I may have a chance to repair the damage. "Is that really what she wrote?"

He slaps me on the back and gestures to the laptop. "See for yourself. But don't let it go to your head. If you take the good stuff to heart, it's hard to reject the bad."

"Emmett, thanks."

"You'll be okay. I'll tell Rosie to put in a good word for you."

Emmett gives me a bro hug, complete with two pats on the back. He rises and does the same with Jasper before letting himself out. I approach the computer cautiously, a rookie lion tamer placing his head inside the wild beast's jaws for the very first time.

O)(O

Two long hours later, I've read every word they've written about me. Most of it is admittedly fantasy, and this is the easiest part to discard. It's the stuff that hints at the awful truth that will be the hardest to dispel. If these girls somehow think that this blog endears me to them, they could not be more sorely mistaken, and their behavior today seals the deal. I won't give any of them the time of day from here on out.

That is, after I deliver one final message. I create an account for myself so that I can log in to the forum section. I follow the current stream called 'Where's Sexward Now?' and recognize the banter from today's activities.

*SexwardSpeaks* _Yes, it's really me. Edward Cullen. The person you claim to lust for, crave, and even dare to use the word love. Here's the truth. I'm just a guy who plays golf. Okay, sometimes I play pretty well. And I appreciate that you've decided to cheer me along, but does that mean you know me, or what's in my heart? Do you think it flatters me when you tug on my clothes or yell inappropriate things to me while I'm playing, or share details from something that happened between two people in private? I can't think of a better way for you to show just how very little you care about me than to hurt someone I care about very much. Now, I'm not putting the blame on you, because I was the one who wasn't entirely honest. But what you all are doing here is inexcusable. And here's me, the guy you'd do anything for, asking you from my heart for just this one thing: PLEASE STOP. Don't call yourselves my Coochies. Don't drop to your knees when you see me in a bar. Don't talk about me this way, like I'm a cardboard cutout you can own. Don't tell the girl that I genuinely like that she's not worth it. You're not just demeaning yourselves; you're actually hurting me._

_If you really care about me, you'll delete everything else on this blog and leave this message up until midnight tonight, so all your loyal followers can hear from me directly, and then you'll close down for good. And at that point, you should know that I truly thank you. I'll happily sign autographs after my matches, but not across your chest. I'll even take pictures with you if I have time. But don't stand in front of Bella, because she gets the front row seat. That is, if I can convince her to want it._

**~BPOV~**

My cell phone lights up on the bed next to me:

_B- I lost you. Where'd you go?–E_

_Understatement of the year, Sexward. _Speaking of whom, I know I'm going to do it; it's just a matter of time. But the clarity provided by my unbearable pain allows me to see that doing it alone would be the equivalent of slitting my wrists. So I call in the troops.

_Rose- Need you. Can you come to the room? B_

ACDC's 'Whole Lotta Rosie' starts blaring, and I quickly answer. "Rose."

"On my way. What's going on?"

"Ugh. Ed…" Gulp of air. "…ward…" A fresh round of sobs wrack my body, and I'm all done talking.

"Sit tight, B. I'm picking up my pace."

Soon, a cool hand presses on my forehead and a soothing voice announces, "I'm here."

God bless my roommate. Her fingers twist my ponytail away from my snotty face, and she rubs my back with a steady rhythm.

"One sec," she says, and returns with a handful of tissues. "Here. Mop yourself up, Sweetie. Then tell me what happened so I can help."

I unfurl myself from the fetal position and take the Kleenex. Rose sits down on my bed and continues to rub my back. It strikes me that perhaps this is how a mother might comfort a child who's in pain, but I wouldn't remember how that feels. Charlie's idea of comfort is standing awkwardly in my doorway, eyes averted to the ceiling, saying something like, "You want me to arrest anybody?"

The sudden image of Charlie hauling Edward away in handcuffs is so bizarre that I have to laugh. Rose gives me a puzzled look.

"Thanks for coming, Rose. Sorry to take you from Emmett."

"It's fine. Now, come on. Talk to me."

And with that, the random ideas swirling in my head seem to organize themselves into rational thought.

"I guess I'd started believing I was really someone different, with my shiny new body and smaller clothes and a few boys sniffing around. Truth is, I'm right back to being that big ass loser from the dark corner of the PiKa basement."

"No, Bella. You're not that girl. I mean, you are- in all the good ways that you've always been Bella- but you don't need to feel that way about yourself anymore. Look how far you've come."

"Maybe I was better off with my protective coating of fat around me. I mean, sure, guys like James might still hurt me once in a while, but a jar of mace can keep me safe from _those_ boys."

"That and a firm knee to the nut sack," she ruminates angrily.

"Truth is, James never had a fraction of the power to hurt me that I handed over to Edward. What a naïve, trusting fool I am!"

"Bella, what did he do?"

"More like, '_Who_ did he do?'!"

"Hhhuuuuuh!" She takes in a sharp, surprised breath. "What?"

"Do me a favor, Rose. Google Cullen's Coochies." I point toward my laptop.

"Cullen's Coochies? Seriously?" she says, getting up slowly as it dawns on her that I am, in fact, serious. Her back is to me as she taps out the keys, but her reaction is clear from the series of repeated, sharp inward breaths. She scrolls and scrolls and gasps and gasps. Finally, she is finished. She twists the top half of her body to my pitiful form.

"You don't know how much of this is true."

"Just tell me what Britney wrote, please."

Rose shakes her head no, and I start to push myself into a sitting position. "If you won't tell me, I'll have to read it and then I'll see everything else, too," I threaten.

"Okay, okay," she says, holding me back with a palms-up gesture. "Britney, Britney…okay, here. _'Sexward was every bit the lover_-' Blah!"

"Come on, Rose, just read it."

"Fine. '_Sexward was every bit the lover I've dreamed he would be. His full, sweet lips_-' ya da, ya da-"

"Rose!"

"'_His full, sweet lips sent me straight to the moon. But that was nothing compared to his talented hands. Let's just say he really knows how to stroke the putter._' Barf!"

"Go on, get it over with."

"'_But Coochies, let me assure you that Sexward's best asset is hidden within those adorable khakis, and btw covered by a layer of Under Armour black boxer briefs. The boy has some powerful larger-than-average-sized equipment, and he knows exactly how to use it to please a girl. And please me, he did. Over and over and over again!'_ Bella, I'm begging you, please let me stop!"

"Fine, Rose, that's about all I can take anyways."

"Look, there's nothing else on here even remotely detailed…" she fades away, scrolling again.

Another sharp intake of breath tells me she's hiding something. "You better give me all of it at once. Just peel off the Band-Aid."

"Okay, there is one other thing. This girl says she tried to blow him in a bar-"

"Gross!"

"And he refused her!"

"Wow, what a saint," I say snidely.

"That's her conclusion, too," Rose snarks. "Actually, it sounds like he was really sweet about it. Told her he didn't want her on her knees for him."

"I suppose he'll want a medal for that."

"The rest is all fan girl fantasies and wild imaginings about what it would be like to kiss him…"

"Promise?"

"Promise. So…what _is_ it like to kiss him?"

"What? Why are you asking me that?"

"I was wondering if this is worth working out or not. I mean, it's not like you don't have other guys banging down your door, Bella. You snap your fingers and Gil Brophy's over here in a flash. And I'm sure Connor is still-"

"It's like heaven to kiss Edward," I blurt out, unwilling to even consider the other options she's offering.

She smiles and returns to the bed, placing her arms around my shoulders in a sideways hug. "Then, let's figure out how to get past this as quickly and painlessly as possible. Hold on a minute."

Rose grabs her phone and taps out a message, no doubt to Emmett. I have to admit, her take-charge attitude is extremely comforting, as is her confidence that we can work this whole mess out, based on my simple admission.

"What'd you just do?" I ask her.

"Sent in the cavalry," she smiles again confidently. "Let's see just how bad Edward's feeling right now. Give me your phone," she says, holding out her hand.

"Look, Bella. He's already figured it out and sent you an apology. That's a good sign. No denial. I hate it when guys do the denial thing."

"So that's it? I just accept his apology and start trusting him again?"

"No, silly. He's going to have to earn that back, one step at a time. For now, we watch him grovel."

"What makes you think he's going to grovel? He can have any girl he wants, Rose."

"I'm pretty sure you're the girl he wants, Sweetie."

O)(O

I convince Rose that frozen yogurt is a fair compromise between the total pigout I deserve and the strict adherence to the plan that she feels will keep me "in balance" emotionally. She must really feel sorry for me tonight- she allows a handful of walnuts on top.

"That's four," she says, glancing down at my cell, which I've surrendered to her for the night. "You sure you don't want to read anything he wrote? This last one is pretty good."

"Hey! Cut that out. You're just supposed to be counting, not reading!"

She shrugs unapologetically and tempts me with my phone.

"Not yet," I say, turning the key in the lock. "Thanks, Rose. Really. I couldn't have made it through tonight without you."

"No problem, Sweetie. We've all been there."

"Listen, you can go back to Emmett's. I'm good. I'm just going to put some finishing touches on my essay for tomorrow and hit the sack anyways."

"You sure? I don't want to leave you if-"

"Rose. I'm sure. Thanks." I hug her and take back my cell. "Go."

"All right. You know I'm only a phone call away."

As soon as she leaves, I head to my laptop. The website has an auto-refresh every five minutes- God forbid one of the Coochies should miss a tweet- and I can't help noticing that there's just one big message now filling the screen.

Holy shit! It's from Edward.

By the time I read to the end, I'm mopping my face again. He hasn't denied any of it, which really hurts, because now I know for sure it's all true. But then, he's taken full responsibility for his actions and sent a strong message to these…girls. And there I am in bold print. He wants me in the front row.

On a whim, I hit 'print' and file away the hardcopy in my desk drawer.

Eager to crawl into bed and end this long night, I put the finishing touches on my essay. I strongly consider avoiding class tomorrow, but it's not really in my DNA to skip. I put myself through my bedtime routine, and just before I climb under the comforter, I take a look through my text messages. Edward's groveling. I allow a small, satisfied smile to seep across my face just before I fall into an exhausted slumber.

**^EPOV^**

My stomach is spinning and churning, and I'm glad I passed on breakfast today. I'm both terrified and thrilled when Bella walks in. I was worried she'd skip today. With my folks arriving late afternoon, I have precious few hours to try to make things right with Bella before we're plunged into all the Homecoming activities as a family.

I'm sitting in the usual spot, eyes shamelessly watching Bella as she turns in her assignment and makes a decision where to sit. She looks directly at me, then turns away and walks straight toward Angela and takes the seat next to her. Angela looks confused and turns around to confirm that I'm in my seat. Eric ends up next to me, as there are exactly 16 chairs and 16 students in the class.

Banner has something different planned for today. He's set up a screen and he plays a scene from 'It's a Wonderful Life'. After the ten-minute scene, he says, "Now, I'm going to play the scene for you again, and afterwards, you're going to write this as it were your own holiday memory. Try to gather in details and use all five senses. Here we go."

Mercifully, the hour doesn't require any conversation, just concentration and reflection, then he asks a few of us to share with the class. Soon enough, we're done and leaving. I suspect Bella isn't ready to hear my apology, but I feel like I have to try anyways. I rush to pack my stuff, and end up kind of holding everything in my hands in my haste to beat her out the door. When she finally passes through, I'm still stuffing my notebook and pens into the backpack and working the zippers.

"Bella."

She blinks up at me, a bit startled that I've had the balls to approach her. She looks like a trapped animal calculating her escape.

"Bella?" I ask this time, much softer.

She quickly takes off, away from the crowded doorway and prying eyes and ears. "Hey, Bella. Please," I loop my backpack hastily around my shoulder and take off after her briskly retreating back.

Suddenly, she stops and turns toward me. "Please what?" I'm taken aback by her direct challenge, or even the fact that she stopped for me at all.

"Please may I have a chance to grovel for your forgiveness?"

She turns her head to the side and I can see the tears that have formed. She's working so hard not to let them spill. I feel like pond scum for causing this pain. I can feel the sting in my own eyes.

"I'm not ready yet," she says not to me, but to the air beside her, and resumes walking away again.

I'm dying to follow her, get in her face, drop to my knees, hell, kiss her feet if she'll let me. But I have to respect what she said. Besides, she said 'yet' and I take that as a positive sign that she's considering it. I can be patient, now that I know there's a 'yet'.

O)(O

_Bella, I understand. I'll wait as long as it takes for the chance to properly apologize and set things right between us. I promise I won't pester you, but please know that I'm keeping my phone next to me waiting for a sign from you that I can try and take away the awful hurt I know I've caused. Please, please, please, Bella. Any time. Day or night. ~Edward_

Satisfied that I've done all I can do, I head over to Emmett's, where Mom and Dad are due to arrive in ten minutes.

Emmett's standing outside like a little kid up early on Christmas morning, waiting impatiently for the rest of the family to wake so he can open his presents. His eager smile drops when he catches my expression.

"Well, that answers _that_ question," he says. "Have you made any progress at all?"

"I got the Coochies to remove their blog, and I've owned up to my mistakes. I just haven't gotten Bella to hear my apology yet."

"You've sent texts?"

"Yeah, but she said she's not ready to hear it yet."

"Yet? That's a good sign, bro."

"That's what I thought, too."

"Well, hang in there. Bella's a reasonable girl, and she seems pretty into you."

"I just wish we could've worked it out before Mom and Dad arrive. I was hoping we all could've spent some time together this weekend. Besides, I really wanted to meet her Dad."

"Ah yes, the in-laws. I'll be meeting Rosalie's parents this weekend. Hell, I really hope I break that record open tomorrow. That's got to impress them, right?"

"That'll be sweet, Em. Hey, here they come."

Seconds later, Emmett pulls Mom into a bear hug while Dad pays the cabbie. My big moose of a brother has the demeanor of an 8-year-old boy around Mom. I suppose I do, too, because when my turn comes, I can't believe how comforting her hug feels. In fact, it makes me want to break down and cry and spill my confessions all over the sidewalk.

She pulls back from our hug and holds onto my hands while she looks me over. Her smile fades slightly as she reads me like no one else ever could. "What's the matter, Sweetie?"

_Aw, shit. Don't, Mom. Please. You know I can't hide anything from you._

"Nothing, Mom. I'm fine."

She releases me so Dad can have his turn, but her suspicious eyes never stop their unwelcome examination. "Ahh, Edward," he says happily, taking me into his arms and giving me a hearty squeeze. "Wow, son, there's a whole lot more of you than the last time."

"Oh. Yeah, I've been working out. My new trainer's got me doing all this core work," I ramble, distracted by Mom's perceptiveness.

"So, you want to come in and say hello to the guys?" Emmett asks.

"You go in first, Emmett, and make sure everyone's decent please," says Mom.

"Jeez, Ma, whaddya think? We walk around here all day in our boxers? It's like thirty degrees outside!"

"I really don't have a clue what you boys do. I just don't want to see anything…untoward."

Dad chuckles and pulls her along. "Don't worry, dear, I'll protect you from the savage beasts."

"Hey, Mrs. C! Thanks for the brownies!" Gil's all over Mom the second she's through the door.

"Brownies? I didn't get any brownies!" I whine indignantly.

Dad pulls me in by the elbow and says, "Your Mother thinks that if she plies Gil with sweets, he'll be more favorably inclined to pass Emmett the football."

Mom blushes at the attention all the guys show her, but I can tell she loves it. Not in some inappropriate cougarly way, just in a motherly way. Dad shakes hands with everyone, and Emmett finds us all a clean-ish place to sit and catch up. All the obvious questions are asked and answered, and throughout it all, Mom's knowing eyes never let me off the hook.

At 4:00, I become acutely aware that Bella is at her session with Riley, and I can't help but worry that she's letting him know the door is open again for Connor. So much for our short-lived time together. No, I can't start thinking this way. It's too depressing.

"Edward?" It's Mom, and she's scooted right next to me on the couch.

"Hmmm?"

"Please tell me what's wrong so I can help you fix it."

"Noth-"

"Edward!" She surprises me with her sharp tone. My eyes blink open with hurt. "Sorry, dear," she says with a gentler tone, covering my hand next to hers on the seat. "We just don't have much time. I hate seeing you like this. Come on now."

Emmett and Dad have become aware of our side conversation, and Dad now takes an interest. "What's happening?"

Emmett shrugs helplessly. Once Mom's latched on, there's no denying her, and we all know it. I take a breath, roll my eyes to the ceiling for inspiration, and tell them everything. Well, almost everything.

**~BPOV~**

"Dad! Over here!" Charlie's face lights up and the edges of his moustache twist upwards into a happy grin.

"Bells!" As he gets closer, his happy grin turns into a shocked astonishment. "Bella?"

"Oh. Yeah. I lost a few pounds."

Dad is speechless, and in all fairness, I probably should've given him a little heads up that I'd lost thirty pounds since he last saw me ten weeks ago. But the surprise factor is really gratifying. Sue is first to break the silence and she gives me a warm hug. "Bella, you look phenomenal! So healthy and glowing! Tell me how you did this!"

Though I had no idea about her interest in my Dad until he told me in August, she's always been like a second mother to me, and I feel her pride in my accomplishment.

"Nothing magical. I did it the old-fashioned way- diet and exercise."

"Well, wow! The boys must be crawling all over you!"

Dad huffs at this and pushes through to pull me into a hug. Ironically, now that he's close, I see he's packed on a few pounds. "You look wonderful, Bella. I can't get over this. I can't believe you never said a word in all our conversations!"

I smile at my Dad, who's only ever wanted the best for me. "I wanted to surprise you."

He accepts this easily and says, "You're done now, right? You're not getting anorexia or bulimia or whatever it is that girls are doing nowadays…"

I chuckle at how quickly he's gone from happy pride to protective anxiety. "No, Dad. Not to worry. I'm working on converting the rest of my flab to muscle."

"Oh yeah? Let me see those guns," he says playfully, hands on his hips.

"How about we go watch a football game instead?" I suggest.

"Fine. You've got so many layers on under that football jersey, I don't think I could feel a muscle anyways."

O)(O

"When did you say we get to meet your roommate?"

"Oh, Rosalie. Yeah. We're going to meet up with her after the game. Her parents aren't exactly the bleachers type."

Charlie laughs merrily, easily accepting my implication. "So, tell me about your classes. You holding up okay in Calc?"

"Yeah. It's not my favorite, but I had to get it out of the way. Everything else is great."

"And you're still enjoying that writing seminar? What did you tell me that boy's name is…your partner?"

"Edward," I answer quickly, and blandly, I hope.

"Right, Edward. What's his story again?"

"Oh," I answer, feigning nonchalance, "he's fine. You remember I told you his brother Emmett is the tight end going for the record today? So, he's probably sitting right behind the players' bench with his folks."

"Oh yeah? Right over there, you mean?" Charlie stands up and points two sections over, unknowingly right at the Cullens, humiliating me as only a parent could do.

I tug immediately on his wrist. "Dad, sit down," I say through gritted teeth. Sue giggles at his complete lack of social graces.

"Gee whiz, Bella, you're gonna pull me right through the slats!" he says, somewhat annoyed. Sue loops her hand around his and takes his fingers soothingly. He calms instantly at her gesture. _Huh! Good for her._

Luckily Edward wasn't looking, and my father's indiscretion appears to have gone unnoticed.

The players file onto the field to wild cheers. There's a presentation of the Homecoming Court, complete with crowned king and queen, just like high school. I feel sorry for the players, who have to pretend to be interested, when they could probably not care less about anything on the planet right now. Emmett looks keyed up, bouncing on his toes, pushing out small Lamaze-style breaths. Gil looks relaxed as he surveys the crowd.

I sit up as tall as I can on the metal bench, elongating the number 7 on my chest. Either my movement or the number itself catches his eye, and Gil treats me to a broad smile. I'm sure I'm blushing like a silly fan girl, and it's only worse when Sue follows my eyes and asks, "Did that boy on the field just smile at you?" Charlie lifts his head to see what he's missed, and I mumble something inane about the sun probably being in Gil's eyes.

Apparently, Sue's not the only one who noticed our exchange, as I feel the unmistakable glare of Edward's eyes turning in my direction. He turns away and slumps down in his seat when he sees that Gil's jersey has taken up residence in the spot his own jacket occupied up until the Close Encounter of the Coochie Kind. The good feeling from a second earlier evaporates with Edward's disappointment.

_Why doesn't this feel better?_ I wonder. The game begins, and we're lost in a collective countdown of yards needed for Emmett's record.

Gil wastes no time feeding him the ball, and on the third play of the game, Emmett makes a brilliant catch and runs it for a touchdown. "Watch this!" I say to my guests, and we stand with the crowd to cheer on the Cullminator as he twists and spins and delights us all with this antics.

My phone buzzes, and I feel Rosie's pride seeping through her message. _He did it! He did it!_

I can't help myself, my eyes drift to the Cullens. His folks are beaming radiantly toward the end zone, soaking in Emmett's moment. Sandwiched between them, Edward celebrates his brother's success, cheering and screaming right up until Emmett comes back to the bench and high five's them all. A camera is following his steps, and a huge image of all four of them appears on the Jumbo-tron.

I feel the tears running down my cheeks with vicarious pride for all of them. Or maybe I'm feeling emotional because I'm all the way over here and feeling excluded from their close-knit group. I'm lost in this moment and probably stand one second longer than everyone around me, so I'm a sitting-er, standing- duck when Edward turns to look at me again, seemingly against his will.

All the proud excitement drains from his face and a curtain of sorrow falls in its place. I grasp my opposite elbows across my chest in a self-comforting gesture, but maybe also to try and cover up the jersey I've worn with less than honorable intentions today. Edward shakes his head sadly and sits back down.

**^EPOV^**

It's not as if I don't deserve it, but that doesn't take away the pinch of pain when I see that Bella's not only rejected my jacket today, but she's wearing Gil's jersey, adding insult to injury. She's sending a message, and I've received it. My earlier optimism at working things out with her plummets, despite the pride I feel for Emmett.

Mom remains loyal and doesn't twist in her seat to see Bella, though I know she's dying to lay eyes on her. And now that she's ferreted out all the sordid details that I'm able to share, Mom's nothing but supportive. I know she's disappointed in me, but we're a united Cullen front. Though it's embarrassing, to say the least, to have to drag my parents through this, it's kind of comforting to be bolstered in my time of need.

The closest I come to meeting Charlie is catching a glimpse of him from two sections over. With or without a loaded weapon, he's intimidating. Under the circumstances, I'm relieved we're dining with the Hales tonight instead.

I try to be a good sport for the sake of my family, but as soon as dinner's over, I bow out gracefully and head back to my room. We're having brunch tomorrow with Jasper and his parents, so I don't feel pressured to be social beyond what I've already endured. I spend a relatively sleepless night of tossing and turning, the number seven spinning its way into nightmares of varying length and theme.

**~BPOV~**

"Bella, get the door!" yells Rose groggily. I force my eyes open to check the time.

"Who's up at 8 am on a Sunday?" I complain, dragging myself out of bed and hopping into my Ugg slippers.

"Who's there?" I ask through the door, thinking it's probably a prank.

"It's Esme Cullen, dear. May I come in please?"

My recently woken heart jump starts itself into a beat I don't recognize, something like the gallop of a herd of wild horses. "Rose," I whisper loudly. "Get the hell up! Rose!"

"What? I'm up, I'm up," she whines. "Who is it?"

"It's Esme!"

"Well, don't you think you should let her in?" she says lightheartedly, wrapping herself in her fluffy fleece robe.

"Oh, shit." I pull open the door, to find Edward's Mom waiting patiently on the other side. "Esme, hi! How are you?"

"I'm fine, dear. I'm sorry to wake you. Good morning, Rosalie."

"Hello, Esme. I'm going to go brush my teeth," she informs us, tactfully excusing herself, toiletry bag in hand.

"I should probably-"

Esme waves her hand dismissively. "Oh, don't worry, Bella. It's fine."

I root through my desk and find some mouth-freshening gum. She refuses when I offer her a piece.

"Gee, Bella, Edward told us how much weight you've lost, but it's amazing to see it with my own eyes. You look even more beautiful than last time we met. You must be really proud of yourself."

This is beyond embarrassing. _What is she doing here? _"Thanks," I say lamely.

"Listen, Bella, you're probably wondering what I'm doing here."

"Oh, uh…"

"I know this is pretty strange. Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Oh, of course. Sorry…" I quickly pull the covers over my bed, but she's already headed for my desk chair, which she pulls out and aims toward the bed where I'm now sitting.

"I'm taking a huge risk coming here. Edward will not be happy with me when he finds out. At. All."

"Don't worry, I won't-"

"No, no, dear. I would never ask you to keep a secret like this from him. I'll tell him myself when I get back."

Wow. Okay.

"Bella," she leans forward in her seat and takes my hands. "I hope you'll indulge a meddling mother's intuition for a few minutes. I don't have much time before they all wake up and figure out where I've gone."

"Sure," I say with great trepidation.

"I'm not here to apologize for my son. He's a big boy, and he's made a big mess, and he's going to have to clean it all up."

"Oh-kay?" So where _are_ we going then?

"There's no question that you're both in a lot of pain right now, and you can trust me when I tell you that time does not heal all wounds. Now, I know you know what I'm talking about right now, Bella."

I nod, because her honesty deserves my honesty right back.

"Good. So here's my thought. One of two things can happen. You and Edward can decide to work this out and start again on new footing. Or…"

She looks like the nurse about to stab me with the meningitis vaccine.

"Or you can decide that you can't forgive or forget and you both need to move on."

Well, that was _way_ worse than the shot!

"Either way," she continues, "why not start the process of listening sooner rather than later? What good will it do either of you to drag this out? "

I see her point, and I have to admit, this limbo really sucks.

"Bella, I really like you, and I hate to see you hurting. But honestly, I feel Edward's pain on a visceral level, and it's nearly unbearable to me. I don't see how I can get myself on a plane back to the west coast without trying to help you kids work through this mess. You hold all the cards, and that's why I had to come over here. I'm asking you, please give Edward a chance to apologize. My son is certainly no saint, and if you decide you can't live with what happened, so be it. But don't choose this moment to play games, because you won't be able to take it back, any more than Edward can take back what he did."

I feel duly chastised for wearing the stupid jersey. I nod again. Esme rises from her chair and says, "For what it's worth, Bella, I really hope you two will work this out. I think you could be something extraordinary together."

"Thank you, Esme." There's more I can say, but we're interrupted by a knock at the door. Actually it sounds like three or four people knocking at the door. Just as I reach the knob, a key turns in the lock and the door opens.

Rose shrugs apologetically and scuffles into the room. Behind her are three Cullen men, one of whom looks especially unhappy.

"Mom?" Edward says uncertainly, taking a step forward toward his mom.

I hear Esme mutter, "Oh boy," under her breath.

If Rose minds entertaining the whole Cullen family in her bathrobe, she doesn't show it. I'm grateful that I wore my flannel pants and long-sleeve thermal top because there are far too many men in the room for my comfort right now. Edward's eyes slip past Esme and land on me. Bed head isn't my best look, but I don't think that's our biggest problem at the moment.

Carlisle speaks from the doorway, "Why don't we take this little family drama out of the girls' room and talk things over down the hall?"

Esme moves toward Carlisle, sidestepping the ire of her younger son.

"Edward? You coming?" Carlisle prods gently.

"In a minute, Dad," he says, not taking his eyes off me while he speaks. "That is, if it's okay with Bella if I stay for a minute."

His eyes are begging, and I don't have an ounce of strength left to resist him.

"Sure," I answer.

His shoulders drop about three inches in relief, and I sense the satisfied smile crossing Esme's face . Edward stands stock still until everyone, include Rose, leaves again. Poor Rose, I think, I'll have to make this up to her. I think, by now, I owe her a Prada bag. Maybe she'll settle for lunch at Green Machine.

The door finally closes and the two of us are alone. We're both staring and breathing and waiting. Edward looks like he hasn't slept in three days, and he definitely hasn't shaved in 24 hours. I've never seen him scruffy like this, so I get kind of stuck on how sexy his whiskers look. Then I remember I'm fresh out of the sack and haven't even brushed my teeth or hair or washed my face. It's so unfair that what looks appealing on Edward makes me look like a used dishrag.

"Bella," he chokes out in a hoarse voice, "may I _please_ grovel for your forgiveness now?"

This time, when he says those words, I really hear him. All he's asking for is a chance. And even without Esme's little speech, I'm ready to grant his request.

"Okay," I say simply.

He blows out a huge breath, nods his head once, and drops to one knee, and then both knees, in front of me. I cannot believe he's actually on his knees, ready to grovel for real. _Definitely earned some points there, Edward._

I'm ready for him to start, but he's just opening his mouth, then closing it again. Finally, he clears his throat and says, "I'm sorry, Bella. I practiced this like thirty times, but I'm so nervous right now. Do you mind if I use my notes?"

"You have notes?" I practically whisper.

"Oh yeah. I..made an outline," he says shyly.

Holy shit. Edward on-his-knees Cullen made an outline of his apology. "Okay," I say.

He wipes his hands on his thighs before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a triple folded piece of paper freshly ripped from his notebook. I'm briefly reminded of LeVon's handwritten note to Edward, while he unfolds the paper, regards it for a moment, then refolds and replaces it into his pocket.

With his eyes back on mine, he starts, "I made a humongous mistake. I misled you into thinking that I hadn't been with any other girls since I came to Holden."

I'm not sure who looks away first, but I know I can't stand to hear what comes next.

"But I was, Bella. I was with a girl in Boston. And there was another girl, too, on the road. But I didn't sleep with that one, not that it matters now," he mumbles miserably.

"I wish I could take back what I did with both of them, but more than anything, I wish that I hadn't said what I said to make you believe that I hadn't been with anyone."

I force my eyes to meet his. Tears are prickling at my eyes, and I know they're gonna come, so I stop fighting it. My mouth start to quiver, and I quickly grasp my lower lip between my teeth to gain control.

"That's what I did, Bella, and I was 100% wrong. Just a second. Sorry." He pulls the paper out again, consults it, and refolds it once more.

"I've sent a message to those evil girls asking them to shut down their website, and apparently they have. I can't be sure that they won't establish three more, but I can promise that they won't have anything to write about even based on a whisper of reality."

Oh God, he is so damn earnest and sweet and still on his knees. I nod in acknowledgment of what he's just revealed and wait for him to finish.

"I think this last part might be the hardest, because I don't want you to think I'm trying to justify what I did or said, but I want you to understand what was in my heart."

I twist around to my desk and grab a tissue for myself. Edward reaches out one hand, and I realize he needs one, too.

"Bella, when I said that I'm not the kind of guy who takes these things lightly, I meant it. I'm not a one night stand. I don't treat girls with that kind of disrespect. Hell, I don't treat _myself_ that way. I made a mistake with Bri…in Boston," he corrects, understanding that I don't want to hear the Coochie's name repeated. "I guess I just went a little crazy with the whole fame thing, and I took advantage of the situation.

"I regretted it the instant it began and I feel like this whole disaster is some kind of cosmic punishment for that idiotic moment of weakness.

"One more thing before I conclude," he says, and I feel my lips try to smile at the fact that he's structured this whole thing like one of our essays, and he really, really wants a good grade on this one.

"You mean so much more to me than any of those girls, or anyone I've ever been with before."

My eyes must pop open at what sounds like a confession that he's slept with hundreds of women.

"Fuck, that didn't come out right at all. That's what I get for not checking my notes again. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that for once in my life, my brain figured it out before my dick. Oh FUCK, that really didn't come out right!"

"Hey, Edward," I tell him, "why don't you skip to your conclusion before you swallow your entire foot?"

"Good idea. Hang on." Once more, he unfolds the paper and just decides this time to set it on the floor in front of him and read. "In conclusion, I fucked up. I was a pig on the road, and even though it all happened before we started to become …physical, I lied about it, and that's not okay. I beg you to please forgive me and give me another chance to prove that I deserve your trust, even if it takes me another semester or longer. I'm so sorry I hurt you, and I can't stand to see you in pain. And speaking of pain, my knees are really starting to hurt. Do you think I can get up now?"

"Sure," I answer, reaching my hand down to help him. He grasps my hand in his, and it's the first time we've touched in almost three days, and neither of us wants to let go once he's erect, er, standing.

"Ahhh," he complains, stretching his legs out a bit and shaking off the dust, but not letting go of my hand. "Bella, thank you for listening to me. I want you to know that I don't expect an answer right away, but I really appreciate that you let me get that all off my chest."

**^EPOV^**

And speaking of chests, would it be so much to ask that you never, ever, ever adorn yours again with Gil Brophy's number? Too soon, I decide, holding this final thought to myself.

"Thank you, Edward. That was a very thorough apology. Even though it hurt like a bitch, I'm really glad you told me everything. That _was_ everything, right? No other Coochies waiting in the wings to tell their stories?"

"No, Bella. That's everything. I mean…"

Fuck, is she asking me about my life pre-Holden? Because there's a whole lot more to say on that topic. "If you're asking about high school, I-"

"No, Edward," she halts me, literally holding up her palm to stop my explanation. "I can't handle that talk right now. Please."

I nod gratefully. "Then that's everything."

"All right. Tell you what, you've got brunch with the Whitlocks right now, don't you?"

I twist my wrist and take a quick look at my watch. "Yeah, in a couple minutes."

"Why don't you stop back over when you're done?"

"Really?" I say brightly, feeling very much the little boy who's just received his first bike. It's all shiny and exciting, but danger lurks around the next twist in the road.

"Really," she answers, finally releasing her smile from captivity. "And don't be too hard on your Mom. She was right."

"Yeah, she usually is," I say regretfully. "I don't suppose I can get a hug?" I give her my very best puppy dog eyes and take one hopeful step closer.

She stops me with a hand in the air between us once again. "Not yet," she answers.

I can live with that. She said 'yet' again.

O)(O

"I think she's gonna give me another chance, Jas."

"That's great news, Edward. Tell her thank you for me, will ya?"

"Shut the fuck up, I wasn't that bad."

"Ho HO, my friend, but you were."

"All right, all right. Payback's a bitch, ain't it?"

"Payback? What'd I do?"

"Oh, I think you know what you did, roommie. I believe your exact words were, 'This is a freebie. What happens in Boston stays in Boston.'"

"Yeah, I may have said something along those lines," he grins sheepishly.

"I'm gonna say a quick goodbye to your parents, and then stick mine in a cab, then get back to finish the job at Bella's."

"Isn't that what got you into trouble in the first place?" he snarks.

I whack him in the back of the head because he deserves it.

O)(O

"Mom, I didn't need you to do that," I say through gritted teeth, out on the sidewalk. I try to work up an indignant anger so she won't pull a stunt like this again. Truth is, I never could get mad at Mom. As my therapist would say, 'It's not a useful emotion for you.' Not where she's concerned, anyways.

"I know, Sweetie," she admits, "but I think Bella did."

"How would you know that?" I'm not sure if I agree with her premise, but I'm curious as hell how she got there.

"Bella hasn't had a mother in her life for the formative years of adolescence. I'm willing to bet your scholarship money that she and her dad don't talk about boys in a productive way."

_Other than his promise to shoot their balls off_, I muse morosely.

"I'm sure Bella is confused right now about what it might mean for her to allow herself to forgive you. Are you catching my drift, Edward?"

"Honestly, no." Sue me, I'm a guy, not a chick with a penis.

"She may have the impression that you're…loose with your morals," her mouth pinches on the last bit, and I regret the disappointment I caused to form in her clear green eyes. "And I'm afraid she may feel that by letting you off the hook, she's lowering her own standards, which I'm guessing are quite high."

"Mine are high, too, Mom. I just slipped," I explain.

"Well, my guess is that Bella hasn't had too many chances to 'slip'," she retorts, not missing the chance to eye me sharply on the word. "At any rate, Edward, I wanted Bella to give herself permission to forgive you, to see that she wasn't less of a person for still wanting you after this. And I felt that needed to come from a mother figure. Rosalie is a delightful girl, but she's obviously had her fair share of experience with boys-"

"Mom! I don't think we should-"

"Oh, come on, Edward. Don't be such a prude!"

I guffaw at her characterization of me, and her breezy attitude all of a sudden toward my brother's girlfriend's previous activities.

"I'm just saying that as a mature woman in a successful long-term loving relationship, I may add some credibility for her to allow her conscience, and thus you, off the hook."

"You're not exactly a disinterested third party," I challenge, though I desperately want her to win this debate.

"No, I'm not. And I laid that out for her quite honestly."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, finally feeling that my mother is actually on my side more than she's letting on.

"Yes. I told her that while you're no saint, your pain unhinges me, and I can't bear it."

"Cab's here," calls Emmett. He and Dad finish their talk/hug, and we get ready to switch parents for goodbyes.

"You let me know what happens with her, Edward. And treat her right from now on."

Gotta love the mom. She pulls me into a warm hug and squeezes me as tightly as she can.

"And the two of you," she admonishes both me and Emmett, "don't believe everything you read about yourselves!"

_Fuck. Me_. Has our innocent mother been trolling fan sites? Thank God the Coochies are off line.

O)(O

I knock nervously and hold my breath until she answers. Part of me worries that she may have changed her mind upon reflection. But once I see her face, all that anxiety melts away. She pulls me in and shuts the door behind me.

"Okay, you can hug me now," she announces.

I laugh and pull her into my chest before she changes her mind. I lock my hands together at the bottom of her back and rest my head on her shoulder. I feel her arms come up around my back, and her cheek comes to rest against my pocket. We're rocking almost imperceptibly, eyes closed, just basking in the comfort of each other.

"Thank you, Bella," I whisper. It feels more like a prayer of thanksgiving. "I won't disappoint you again," I promise.

"I believe you," she says.

After a few minutes of this blissful rocking, I feel myself being lulled to sleep.

"Bella, I am really, really happy to be hugging you, but I haven't slept in about 80 hours, and I'm afraid I might actually fall over right now."

"Well, gee, Edward, I must be the most boring girl in the whole history of girls."

"Pshhh," I comment inelegantly. "Mind if we do this horizontally instead?"

"Wow, you are really smooth, you know that? Five minutes after we make up, you're trying to get me into bed?"

"More like _onto_ bed," I admit.

"Come on, Romeo," she says, taking my hand and leading me to her bed. Even though the lights are off, it's the middle of the day and it's way too sunny for a decent nap. I look around for her blanket, not at all happy that I can't find it in its usual spot at the bottom of the bed. I fear it's gone the way of my jacket, packed away somewhere instead of being prominently displayed.

"Oh," she says. "You looking for this?" She pulls the folded up green fleece out from under her pillow. "Lie down," she says.

"Now we're talking," I say, placing myself on top of her comforter and rolling to my favorite sleeping position, my left side.

I feel the warm darkness flutter over me and settle from my neck down to my ankles. "Ahhh," I moan. She's regarding me, hands on her hips.

"Well, aren't you coming in?" I ask, lifting the corner for her and extending my arm out under the pillow.

"You think I'm gonna fit on there with you, Mr. King Size?"

"Except for my feet hanging off the end, there's plenty of room for both of us. We'll scrunch. Come on."

She sits gingerly and slides onto her back, lying there with her hands at her sides as awkwardly as possible.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I've never done this before. Which way do I go?"

My eyes are getting droopy now that I'm lying down. The conversation is amusing, but I'm far too tired to enjoy it right now. "Whichever way you're more comfortable."

She turns onto her left side and once she's settled, I pull the blanket up and over our heads, creating our own dark bubble. "Mmmm."

I drape my right arm over hers and grasp her hand so she doesn't worry about me wandering. I'm just drifting off when I feel Bella's hair tickling against my nose. She's scooted back just enough to tantalize my weary senses. I'm careful to hold my lower half back and away. I am beyond exhausted, but apparently, my dick wasn't on the distribution list of that particular memo.

Bella runs her left hand along my arm and finds my hand (not surprisingly) at the end. She coaxes my fingers around and between her own and pulls our joined hands into her belly. I hold still and let her finish adjusting herself. She rocks back a few more inches until her back is pressing lightly against my chest. I surrender to the lovely contact and bury my nose in her hair, inhaling deeply the mingled scents of shampoo, soap, and girl that I've been missing all weekend.

A few minutes later, I hear, "Edward."

"Mmm?"

"You better get up. It's almost 8," she whispers.

"_A.M_?" I say too loudly.

"Shh! Yeah," she says, giggling. "We've got Comp Sem in less than an hour."

I stretch and dig myself out of the blanket. A large, loud yawn escapes before Bella can cover my mouth. "Shhh! You'll wake up Rose!" she scolds.

I look over at Rose's perfectly made bed. "I don't think she can hear us from Emmett's house."

Bella pokes her head out like the Caddyshack gopher, hair static-y and wild. "Oh! I guess one of us could've slept on Rose's bed."

"Well, what fun would that have been?"

"Not as much fun, but you might have slept a little better."

"Bella, I haven't slept that well in weeks! Sit next to me in class today?"

"Of course," she promises.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Each week at Holden seems more laden with action and details (i.e.- WORDS) than the previous, and as I write, I sense the situation will continue. I wanted to keep the pattern of one chapter per Holden week, so I haven't broken them down into smaller, more manageable word counts. More of the coeds to love! ~BOH


	12. Fly On the Wall

**11/14/2011**

**~BPOV~**

The boy waiting for me in our usual spot is a more rested, freshly scrubbed version of the boy from last Friday. Yet, I feel his eyes on me the whole journey from the doorway to his side, as if he doesn't quite trust that I'll really sit next to him until I finally land in the seat. There's a strange new vibe between us, a combination of the intimacy of our night spent together under our dark blanket, and the lingering mistrust caused by Edward's dishonesty.

It almost feels as if there's a stranger sitting next to me, instead of the warm sweet boy I was just beginning to trust. And where stronger rope had just begun to reinforce the fibers of our friendship, it now feels as if we're held together by a much more fragile connection, mere threads. Something we'll have to be much more vigilant about protecting.

I know Edward wants to make things right, and his heartfelt apology certainly goes a long way toward beginning the healing process. But I can't help but feel that he has so many secrets still hidden. If what Britney reported is true, then Edward seems to be an experienced…lover. The word sits sourly in my thoughts. How can what happens between two strangers qualify as loving? Just how many other girls _has_ Edward been with? Can I handle not knowing about his past? Even worse, what if he's brave enough to share the truth, and I'm not strong enough to deal with it?

As if his face might have the answers to my questions, I gaze Edward's direction, only to find he's been staring at me this whole time. We both look away, shy and embarrassed, two people who don't know where they stand with each other.

"Good morning. Instead of sharing from your papers, I'd like to do a little free writing exercise based on the type of advice you just gave your 10-year-old self. This is just for you; you don't even have to share this one with your writing partner. I'd like you each to think about what challenges, questions, hopes and dreams you have _right now_ for your future. You may actually want to list these out. Now think about an older you, say someone…UGH!...my age," he says dramatically. "What kind of advice do you think 40-year-old you could offer your present day self?

"While you get started on that, I'm going to pass back your assignments. We'll work until ten minutes before the hour. Get to it, please. Just because they're not being graded doesn't mean you should give any less than your full effort."

Papers shuffle, small grunts of Monday morning sluggishness are exchanged, and finally, everyone simmers down and gets to work. I chance a look at Edward. I know he's already considered his future self since that's the perspective he took in his essay, but now he has to deal with his present personage, and that's probably why he's scowling a bit right now. I feel slightly evil that I don't mind that he's having a bit of a rough moment with present Edward. That makes two of our present selves.

I sketch out a list of issues: _fulfilling job? relationship? (EDWARD?) Charlie? healthy? children? skinny? friends? written a novel? (famous?)_

I decide to imagine myself the brightest answers to all my questions, and I allow myself to sink deeply into that lovely fantasy. I begin writing, and my pen doesn't stop moving until Professor Banner tells us time's up. I've spent the last fifty minutes ensconced in a perfect vision of married life with Edward, our two perfect children (one of each, of course, both with his regal bone structure, caramel-colored hair, brilliant green eyes, and dazzling smile), my three bestselling novels, all of which have been made into movies starring the hottest stars of the day, Charlie and Sue living happily around the corner- just close enough to babysit whenever we need their help, and topped off by the return of my wayward mother, who's decided she made a terrible mistake and wants us all back in her life.

What advice will this successful, happy, skinny woman give current me? _Keep writing. Don't let temporary setbacks discourage you. Don't be afraid to try something different. Failure is not the opposite of success; it's a necessary ingredient. Don't drown difficult emotions with food. Reward yourself in non-caloric ways (including kissing!). Appreciate the time you spend with your father now- go fishing, watch golf together, talk with him about things that matter to you. Don't allow one mistake to close the door on a relationship that could be everything to you. If your mom comes back some day, try to keep your heart open._

Did I really just write that? Wow!

**^EPOV^**

For the first five minutes of our writing exercise, all I can visualize is my 40-year-old self shaking his head disapprovingly at current me. Even though Bella's heard me out and given us a chance to start over, I feel like I've lost so much ground. Sitting here, next to her, I full well know that we're not in the same place we were before all this started.

My wise 40-year-old of the future has some serious things to say to this college freshman. _Figure out what kind of man you want to be, and start living up to his high standards right now. Don't do anything you're going to be ashamed of or want to lie about later (Dad's most frequently given advice). Don't give up on yourself- you're capable of just about anything you set your mind to. Keep doing those things that make you feel fulfilled inside, whether that's golfing or teaching golf or listening to great music. Emmett's always going to be your big brother and your most loyal fan. This could be the girl; don't let her get away! _

By the time Banner stops us, I'm edgy about where things stand with Bella, and I want to lock in a chance to talk with her again soon. I lean over and ask, "Bella, can we get together tonight after your session with Riley. Please?"

Before I get my answer, Professor Banner starts in, "This week we're going to work on writing dialogue. You're going to pick a scenario and take the point of view of the proverbial fly on the wall. Tell me what the characters are saying and thinking. You can choose a moment from history- What did King Henry VIII say to Ann Boleyn the night before she was beheaded? You might choose something biblical- What were Cain and Abel talking about in the field? Or you might choose something from pop culture- How did Brad break the news to Jennifer? What is the conversation between the vampire and the young woman who longs to be his immortal partner? Take your pick, whatever you think will be interesting to write about. Since next week is Thanksgiving and there won't be an assignment, let's have 1,000 words this time."

Moans and groans ensue, my own loudly among them. I have my last golf matches this week, and I'm anticipating more stress than usual. Throw in the emotional turmoil with Bella, and I should be a fine mess by the weekend.

My unanswered offer is still on the table at the end of class, and Bella starts to pack up. Did she forget? Fuck, Emmett would probably say this is all part of the groveling process. "Bella?"

"Hmm?" she says absently.

"Tonight?"

"Oh, I, um…"

_Shit,_ don't push it, Edward. "Hey, it's okay. If you're not ready…"

"It's more that I didn't get very much done this weekend, between Charlie and us…y'know…I just couldn't really concentrate. So I have a few things hanging over my head that I should really finish tonight."

Truth be told, so do I. "Can I still pick you up in the morning on my way to the range?" Please say yes, Bella.

"That should be fine unless I'm up really late. Can I send you a text later?"

I try not to sound too miserable when I consider that she may not come. "Sure," I have to agree.

O)(O

I make a promise to myself that I'll work at full throttle at least until I receive Bella's text. The silver lining to my dark cloud is that I catch up on all the pre-calc problems I can do without help, finish my assigned psych reading, and even have most of the outline for my essay done by the time her message arrives at 1:15 am.

_Edward- Just finishing up now. I think I'll need the extra sleep in the morning. Sorry. –Bella_

Triple whammy. She's not coming. She's back to writing both of our full names. And worst of all, no 'x'.

_B- Not that you need any beauty sleep, but I understand. Maybe I can walk you back after tutoring tomorrow afternoon? –E_

Her answer comes swiftly.

_Sure. C u then._

It's better than nothing, but I want my x back.

O)(O

I forego putting today, figuring hitting the longer clubs will help release more of my pent-up frustration. Between my workouts with Riley and my extra morning practices, my golf game has never been in better shape. At least something's working for me right now.

I try to focus in History of Jazz, because listening is pretty critical and we have a big midterm on Tuesday, but worries about Bella plague me. Patience is a trait that comes easily to me in the realm of athletics, but sitting out this torturous time with Bella definitely isn't my strength. And as before, I'm aware that there are other wolves howling at her door, one of whom is going to be sitting very close to her for the next hour. Ah well, I soothe myself, he wasn't in (or on) her bed last night.

I finally get my much-needed break before I meet Emily. It's too cold to hang around outside, so I pop into Elsie's and grab myself a dog with the works. Pulling up to a spare inch of counter, I inhale the first few bites, letting the sauerkraut and chili work their magical healing. On top of everything, Professor Banner has reminded me about Thanksgiving, and the holiday now rests on my chest like a big fat overstuffed turkey. Mom and Dad don't expect us- the trip home just doesn't make sense just for a long weekend, especially with Christmas only four weeks later. I finish off my dog, slurp down the rest of my diet coke, and grab a handful of napkins to mop up the damage.

Stepping outside into the cold again, I send Emmett a quick text asking him to call when he's free. Two seconds later, the Holden U Fight Song blares from my cell. I get amused looks from everyone in the vicinity before I can press the answer button.

"Dammit, Em, I asked you to stop fooling around with my ringtones," I gripe at him.

"Oh come on, Eddie. I just broke the record. Lemme have a little fun, will ya? So what's up? Did you need Rosie to spend another night at the fun house?"

"No, Emmett," I answer quickly. Not to be ungrateful, I add, "But thanks for Sunday. We really needed that."

"Yeah, you sound like you need about 100 more of those, to be honest, little bro."

"Ugh, _so_ not what I meant. Anyways," I scramble to bring us on point, "what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"The Hales have cordially invited yours truly to attend the feast of our forefathers at their compound. They love me, Eddie. What can I say?" I can hear his bravado oozing through the 3G.

Figures. It doesn't hurt that the first time he meets his girlfriend's parents, he breaks a collegiate record.

"Hey," he says soberly, "you got somewhere to go?"

"Sure, Em. I'm fine," I lie. A couple of the guys on the golf team live nearby, and I'm sure if I drop a hint or two, I won't have any trouble getting an invitation. I know Jasper's heading home, but I can't ask my folks to pay for a ticket to Florida for no reason.

"Okay. So how're things with Bella?"

"All right, I guess. I…took your advice," I admit.

"Down on your knees?"

"Yeah."

"Good man."

"Felt more like a pussy than a man, to be honest."

A deep laugh carries through the line. "Then you must've done it right."

"Great," I say glumly. "Listen, I gotta go. You coming to my match Thursday?"

"Sure, you know I'll be there. It's your last home match, right?"

"Yeah," I answer, lamenting that my weekend will be spent in Bethel, Maine.

"Okay, see you there."

"Later."

I'm in front of the library now, and Emily greets me the same way she always does, looking down at my shoes or just beyond my backpack. The girl has a serious social disorder, but damn, she's good at teaching me math.

"Ready, Emily?"

"Oh, yeah…sure."

I catch Connor waiting out of the corner of my eye and push ahead quickly so I don't have to see Bella with him.

**~BPOV~**

When Connor and I exit the library, I see Edward waiting off to one side for me, making an effort not to notice us. This is my fault for wearing Gil's jersey; I've set off Edward's jealous instincts and he's working to rein himself in. I say a hasty goodbye to Connor, who spots Edward, probably because I can't avoid flicking my eyes back over to where he's standing every five seconds. Connor takes the hint and makes himself scarce. Edward's at my side in no time flat. I can't even figure out how he got here so quickly.

"Thanks for meeting me," he says.

I shrug. It's not as if I've gone out of my way. I'm walking back, he's walking back.

"So, did you get all your work done last night?" he asks.

"Enough," I answer.

"Do you have time to get a coffee or something?" he asks hopefully.

"Sure. I'm all done for today."

His tight smile loosens just a bit at that news. "Great. Wanna hit Froth?"

"Sure." Froth is Holden's antidote to sterile coffee chains and pretentious Italian drink sizes. Here, we ask for small, medium, or large. They won't give us dirty looks if we linger after we finish our drinks. In fact, there's a bookshelf filled with old-fashioned games like Sorry and Trouble and checkers and chess. Even Monopoly, but the finance majors are usually hogging that one. So many people used to fight over the Scrabble game that now they've got three, and there's a wait list you can sign when you first walk in. I don't want to play any more games with Edward right now, and I hope he's feeling the same way.

As we're walking toward the shop, I can't help but think that on the way back, I'm going to know stuff about Edward that I can't un-know, and I really hope this is the right move. From the tentative way he's moving, he probably suspects the same.

4:00 is pretty much prime coffee shop time on campus, kids looking for a place to hang between classes and dinner, time to start getting their late day caffeine buzz on to carry them through a night's load of work. Every table is filled when we walk in. I offer to watch for someone leaving while Edward gets in line. He leaves his backpack with me, and I slide mine off my shoulder to the floor.

"What can I get you?" he asks.

"Skim milk latte?" I reach into my front pocket, but Edward grabs my wrist.

"I got this, Bella. I invited you."

"Thanks," I say, knowing how irritating it is when people don't just accept a simple cup of coffee when it's offered. I make a mental note to buy next time, though I know Edward's funds are more plentiful than mine.

There's still no table available by the time Edward comes back with the drinks, so we're standing awkwardly between tables, toward the middle of the café. This is no place for anything but small talk, so we fill the air with meaningless chatter about his practice, his session with Emily, and Riley. I don't know which of us is more relieved when a pair of kids finally decides to leave. We hover over them protectively, securing the corner table for ourselves. Once we're seated, Edward turns the conversation to our assignment.

"So, what is your fly overhearing?" he asks.

I smirk, "Bill and Hillary, the night he claims he 'did not have sexual relations with that woman'."

An unguarded smile appears on his face. "Mine is Tiger and Elin," he says.

"Oh brother. Banner's going to think we copied each other."

"Nah," he says, "he'll just pat himself on the back at how perfectly suited we are for each other."

Suddenly, his face turns red and he looks down at the table. I sip awkwardly at my latte. Time passes.

**^EPOV^**

"Edward, we need to talk."

Though I initiated this pseudo-date to do exactly that, I can't help the physical response when she says those time-honored words known to precede a break-up. If what we've been doing can even be considered something to break up. But I know it is the moment I fear that I've lost it for good. The moment my blood literally runs cold through my body. With shaky hands, I set down my hot drink and force my eyes to hers.

"I know," I answer, and suddenly she looks the way I feel.

"I don't know how to do this," she admits, and I'm pierced by those words she says again and again to me.

_I don't know how to kiss. I don't know how to share my bed with you. I don't know how to talk to you about your sordid past._

'_Be a man. Fix this_,' my inner Emmett prompts. "You want to hear how I learned that girls don't have cooties?" I offer.

"I guess," she says defeatedly.

"Hey, Bella," I start, then take a chance and reach across the table to loosely grasp her fingers. "I'll tell you anything you want to know." She doesn't pull back, which I take as a positive sign. "The worst is already out in the open," I promise.

"I'm not so sure," she says.

Great, now Bella thinks I'm a man whore. And looking back now, I guess I'd have to admit I've had more than my fair share of girls through high school, but only one at a time, and each one meant something to me. Until Britney.

I blow out an exasperated breath and respond to her unspoken accusation. "Bella, I told you, I'm not a one night stand. That was a one-time mistake."

She flinches and pulls back her hand. _Damn, what did I say?_ "No, Edward. It's not that."

Both her hands have now left the table and I'm pretty sure if I peek, I'll find her rubbing her hands together madly in her lap. Bella's tell. "_What_, then?" I prompt softly, trying like hell to be patient. Just in case she decides to take it back, I leave my hand palm-up on the table between us in a gesture of openness and surrender.

"What about all the girls that _did_ mean something to you? You've already had all these feelings for other girls! You've already had all your firsts!" Her eyes are wild and accusatory and scared and demanding.

"You're partly right," I confess. "I've been lucky enough to have had some of those…experiences. But Bella, these feelings that I have for you…whatever they are…they're all new."

For a second, she takes it in and allows herself to sink into my words. But just as swiftly, doubt erases everything good. "Isn't that how it always feels in the beginning?" she challenges me.

"No," I answer simply, though my emotions are far more complex when it comes to Bella.

A cloud of doubt rolls across her face, the one emotion that pains me the most. _Fuck. Dig deep, Cullen_.

"I'm not saying I never had feelings for other girls, Bella. I'm just saying they weren't these _particular_ feelings." Now I feel like Alan Dershowitz arguing semantics. "Look, I don't want this to be about me picking the right words. It's not really my strength. And I don't want to disappoint you again, Bella."

She pulls her hands up and crosses her arms across her chest. Another dose of super negative body language.

"Edward, exactly how many girls have you been with?"

Well, who didn't know that was coming? Yet I have no idea how to respond.

"Not to sound like an asshole, but what do you mean by '_been with_'?"

Her eyes narrow and her lips thin out in a severe line. Shit, so much for not sounding like an asshole.

Bella leans in, resting her folded arms on the table, as she clarifies in a low, emotionless voice, "Exactly how many vaginas has your penis been inside?" She cocks an eyebrow at the end, as if to say, _'Is that fucking clear enough, asshole?'_

I choke and sputter, thankful that my hot beverage is nowhere near my face when she dropped that little bombshell.

"Four," I finally answer. She pulls back as if I've slapped her. Quietly, I add, "Five, counting Britney." This little addendum earns me a fresh eye roll and an, "Ughh."

"You're taking all this out of context. Except for…that last one…these were all girls that I was in a relationship with. It's not like I was just running around the Golden State sticking my penis in random vaginas."

Her eyes widen and I realize I may have said that last bit just a tad too loudly. Turned heads and giggles confirm my fear. I lift my coffee and try to drink innocently until the moment passes.

"So I'm supposed to feel better that not only have you had sex with five more people than I have, but you also have strong feelings about each of them?"

"_Had_, Bella. _Had_. And yeah, I kind of thought you'd appreciate knowing that I'm not a slut." And then, I amend, because now I have to, "Except for-"

"Fuck, Edward," she growls in a low voice, "if you say that bitch's name one more time, I don't know if I can hold in my rage. Can we just agree to take that off the table for now?"

I nod quickly, grateful and terrified at the same time.

She takes a moment to recover, then calmly asks, "And how many mouths?"

Is she seriously asking me what I think she's asking me? Right here over coffee? Now, I lean in and whisper, "Are you asking me how many blowjobs I've had?"

"No. I'm asking you how many different _mouths_ have provided that…service."The grimace her mouth forms tells me she doesn't regard the providing of this particular 'service' to be pleasurable.

I suddenly feel like I'm in pre-calc assembling a sexual Venn Diagram that has no right answers. "Wait, different from each other or different from the vaginas?" I ask earnestly.

She throws her arms up in disgust. "Oh for Christ's sake, Edward. Just answer the question."

"Honestly, Bella, I didn't count. A bunch."

"If you had to guess, would you say I could count them on my two hands?" She clearly displays her ten fingers in case I don't know how many she has.

"You might need to throw in some toes," I say, trying really fucking hard not to smirk.

Snarkily, she responds, "Well, how nice for you."

She's trying to be tough, but I see the shimmer of tears sitting inside her eyes as she turns her head to the side. I'd love to comfort her right now, but how do I do that when I'm the one causing the pain?

I try gently, "At the time, yeah…" Now, not so much.

Still unable to meet my eyes, she asks, "Can I assume you've….returned the favor then?"

"A few times." _When the occasion called for it,_ I reflect.

Now she has to wipe a stray tear from each cheek. I figure the only way to end this is to let her get through all her painful questions and try to be as open as I can.

"What about kisses, Edward?" Now, she forces her eyes to mine. And it pains me to meet then.

I shift in my seat. "It's hard to count kisses. There are so many different kinds."

"How about the kind you gave me at the concert, or under the blanket later?"

I realize I'm about to fail this little test, but I'd rather give her the whole truth all at once and get it over with. "Okay, I have kissed a lot of girls."

She wrinkles her mouth as if she's just licked a dirty ashtray. It's a pretty bad face, but I soldier on bravely. "I really like kissing, Bella."

She looks deflated, like maybe I just popped the last balloon of hope she had left.

"I'm sorry. I'm just being honest with you."

"Great," she mumbles miserably.

"Could I have your hand back please?" I wiggle my fingers to illustrate where I want it. She obliges reluctantly, as if I'm tainted now and she is afraid to catch what I may be spreading.

"Thanks," I say, lacing my fingers around hers and ignoring her lack of enthusiasm. "Bella, I know hearing all this is really harsh, but would you please just try to keep one thing in mind? I'm here. With you. Doesn't that tell you something? Whatever- or whoever- I may have done before wasn't what I wanted. Or I wouldn't have kept looking. I'd still be with one of them."

"I understand that logically, but it really hurts to imagine you with other girls."

"Then don't. And by the way, just for the record, you're the one who's been with three other guys right in front of me. And it's not so enjoyable for me either."

"Pfff. I hardly think your seeing me in Gil's fucking jersey at a fucking college football game is equivalent to my reading a fucking blow by blow of your latest…_fuck_!"

The fact that she's just packed so many f-bombs into one statement is alarming. She's usually so articulate and calm. "I can see where you might not think so," I say, hoping to defuse her anger, "but we'd already…oh, never mind."

She squeezes my hand. "What were you gonna say?"

Bring on the humiliation. "We'd already putted together, and gone to the jazz festival, and played Heart and Soul, and I showed you my eight-pack, and I was Barney to your Betty…"

She finally softens her mouth into something resembling the beginning of a smile, giving me the strength to go on.

"And we'd kissed under the stars and under the blanket and on the freaking putting green! And after all that, to punish me for something I did before _any_ of those things happened between us, you advertised to another guy that you were interested."

For the first time since Coochie-gate, Bella has her own pang of guilt.

"That broke my heart, Bella." There, I fucking said it.

**~BPOV~**

"I'm sorry, Edward. I thought I wanted to hurt you back."

"Well, it worked," he answers.

"No. It didn't." Edward's forehead crinkles and I hang my head and explain. "When I saw you first notice me wearing the jersey, your whole body kind of slumped, and I think I felt worse than you."

"That's hard to believe," he mumbles.

"You can believe it," I say, shaking my head. "God, I really don't know how to do _any_ of this, Edward. I'm not like any of those girls you've been with. I've never done anything before. I'm totally lame at kissing, and I don't have a clue about…you know, the _rest_ of it."

He looks like he's bursting with a smile he knows he shouldn't let out. I can feel my face getting hot and I can only assume I'm bright red by now. "I don't even know the right way to _fight_ with you," I finally admit.

"Bella, I happen to love that you're not like any of the other girls. Everything is a first for you. Do you know how exciting that is for me? And, lucky for you, I can teach you everything you need to know," he says with a devilish wink that turns up the heat enough to melt my heart and set my panties on fire.

"Yeah, I think I'm already familiar with your teaching methods. I can see it now," I quip, "Kiss me perfectly six times or you have to start all over from the beginning."

"Mmm, I like it," he nods.

"Edward Cullen, Sex Sem 101. For today's demonstration, I'll need a volunteer from the audience. Yes, Bella Swan, come on up. Okay, let's just remove your shirt. And next, your pants. Great, now, if you'll just turn so the class can see you while I demonstrate the proper technique for-"

Edward's jaw drops and he licks his lips to replenish the moisture that has completely evaporated. "You really can't just go around saying things like that in public," he complains.

"Sorry. I was just fooling around."

"Well, cut it out. We were having a perfectly productive conversation a minute ago and you derailed it."

"Hey," I say, refusing to shoulder the entire blame for our little detour, "you're the one who said you could teach me everything."

"Fair enough," he admits, "but I actually didn't mean that in an _entirely_ dirty way."

"No?" I challenge, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, mostly, yeah. But also, in all seriousness, you mentioned not knowing how to fight. I have to say, learning how to work things out in a relationship is definitely something that can be practiced and improved. And my parents have been a great example for Emmett and me. 'Don't walk away until you work it out' is kind of our family motto. That's why it was particularly painful for me to wait for you to be ready to hear me out."

"Yeah, that's not exactly the family culture I come from, in case you haven't noticed. Swans just walk away, period."

"Bella, I really can teach you a lot of this, if you'll let me. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but at least I have a good idea how it's supposed to work. If you can stand it, it's always better to work it out sooner rather than later. Why should two people who care about each other inflict pain? There's so much shit out there, your partner should be the one safe place you can always count on."

"I'll try, Edward, but like I said, it's not like this kind of behavior was modeled for me."

"I understand that it's not easy. But your instincts are good. I know you didn't want to hurt me back, deep down."

"I think that's what your mom was trying to get across in her…unexpected visit."

He acknowledges his mother's strange visit with a small smile and matching nod. "I'd say I'm sorry she did that, but it would be a total lie."

"Me too," I admit, matching his smile.

"Bella, could I please have my x back now?" he asks suddenly, taking my other hand in his and pulling me across the table.

He meets my lips in the middle and reacquaints himself in a manner only slightly inappropriate for our setting. I can't bring myself to care that people are staring openly. I find that if I close my eyes, I can't see their disapproving, or more likely jealous, glares. Who wouldn't be jealous? I'm kissing the hottest guy around and he only has eyes for me. Right now, anyways.

Which brings me back to the reason for this entire conversation. I pull back my hands, sit back in my chair, and ask, "So, that was just another kiss in a long line of kisses for you?"

"No, Bella. That was me kissing you hello after a long absence, remembering the way you taste, but also enjoying the faint flavor of coffee and foam and reconciliation. I've definitely never had a kiss like that before."

"So, are you saying that kisses are like snowflakes? No two are alike?"

"Why, did you think kissing Connor was the same as kissing me?"

Um, NO. Not that kissing Connor wasn't fun, but he wasn't Edward.

"Hello? Bella?" he snaps his fingers in front of my face for effect. "I wasn't really trying to make you relive kissing Connor." He's flinching a little and it's pretty cute. Why is Edward cute when he's jealous and I'm a raving lunatic? It's not really fair.

"No, of course not."

"And?" he's leading me.

"And I'd rather be kissing you," I admit, earning myself another Edward kiss. "Although…" I tease.

"Okay, that's not funny anymore," he scowls. "In all seriousness, Bella, you do realize the rest of it is the same way, right? I mean, I've never done any of those things _with you_ before, so it's all going to be new to me at the same time."

"Nice try, Edward, but your car's been around the block a few times. And mine's been sitting in the garage. On blocks. With the battery unplugged."

Edward guffaws at my metaphor and says, "Let me tell you something, Bella, the first few…trips…were pretty bumpy."

"Please tell me you're not saying I should be grateful that those other girls broke you in for me! Because if I could set your odometer back to zero and fumble through all those first with you, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"You say that now," he laughs, "but you really have no idea. Trust me, it wasn't pretty."

"Well, according to _Britney_…" There, now I've said it, and lived to tell the tale, "you certainly know what you're doing now."

"Yeah, Bella, I've got mad skills," he says, surrendering to the unfortunate compliment.

"Well, you know what your parents taught you," I say, stealing a line from last week's essay. "Practice makes perfect."

"Hey, I wouldn't claim to be perfect," he boasts with false modesty, "but my Complaints Department isn't exactly working overtime either." The cocky grin on his face absolutely _has_ to go.

I pretend to gag myself. "Have you been reading your fan mail again, _Sex_ward?"

Just like that, the grin vanishes. "Bella, I told you, that's over. The Coochies are out of business."

"I know," I admit, softening toward him again. This is the real Edward, not the one pretending bravado and parading his prowess. "I saw what you wrote, Edward."

His eyes pause in mine, dimming with the realization that if I've read his farewell plea, I've also likely seen everything else the Coochies site had to offer.

"So," I begin, not completely clear on how this might go, or if it's even fair for me to make this kind of demand on him, considering where we are right now. "You have another travel weekend coming up?"

"Yeah. Crappy timing. It's our last match of the season."

"Would it be fair for me to assume that…" Shit, assume what?

"Yes," he says simply. He holds both palms up between us and demands, "Gimme."

Demanding Edward is sexy as fuck. I'm brought back to the night he showed up at my door demanding 'his x' back with the same word. I immediately oblige, placing my hands trustingly into his.

"It's fair for you to assume that beyond signing an autograph or tipping my hat, I will have nothing to do with anyone in Maine." I feel like he's just sworn this as an oath, using my two hands as his holy book.

"And I won't wear anyone's name on my body but yours while you're away," I promise him right back.

"Well, that's a fucking relief," he smiles his regular Edward smile, without a hint of the cocky. "So, are you busy Thursday afternoon? We have our last home match, and I was really hoping you'd come. Emmett will be there, and I'm sure Alice-"

"Yes, Edward," I interrupt. "And you had me at 'front row'."

**^EPOV^**

'_I've requested a special Secret Service detail to guard the Presidential Penis from now on.'_

'_Hillary, be reasonable.'_

'_William Jefferson Clinton, you're seriously asking me to be reasonable? You've been dipping your quill into every willing bottle of ink since before you were governor, and I've looked the other way. But this time, it's a national scandal. Think about Chelsea, if you don't care about me anymore.'_

'_Now, hold on one second there. You haven't just been looking the other way, my fair Hillary. You've been _swinging_ the other way!'_

Oh no, my sweet, innocent Bella did not just accuse Hillary of her own dalliances. She actually handed the President a justification for his own inexcusable behavior! My jaw drops and I glance at my surprising friend, whose own eyes are shining brightly with interest in my outline. She chuckles, and I figure she's just read the part where my fly observes that Elin could have made a better club selection for her swipe at Tiger's SUV. The loft of the nine iron is really better suited to swatting flies than smashing cars.

I wait impatiently for her to reach my conclusion and glance up. "So, I'm guessing you're not a Tiger fan then?"

"Not so much," I confirm. "At least not anymore."

"Was this whole scandal hard for you?" she asks, sensing that watching an idol fall so hard is an unpleasant experience.

"Kids all over the world look up to him. He betrayed and humiliated his wife. He has children who are going to have to grow up under these headlines. And beyond all that, he was a moron for leaving all that evidence."

She seems a bit frustrated with my answer. Finally, she challenges me, "Funny, you don't seem too upset about what he actually did with all those other women."

This is tricky. Our own relationship is just getting back to ground only slightly firmer than a moon bounce, and I fear this conversation may not take us in the right direction. I wonder, not for the first time, why I didn't choose a safer topic for my paper. But then, look where Bella went with hers.

"Honestly, Bella, I believe the guy has a serious problem. He's driven to urges that he probably can never control fully, no matter how hard he tries to work it out in rehab. So why did he bother marrying Elin and making vows to her that he knew he'd never keep? And why bring children into the world? He could've gone on his merry way, doing whatever it is he wanted to do with every consenting adult from here to China and only hurt himself. I wouldn't have admired him for his promiscuity, but I could've still rooted for him on the golf course. Now…I hate what he's done to the game. He tainted every player who's ever covered for him, every sponsor that ever stood behind him. His poor mother…"

I couldn't bear my own mother's disappointment in me for what surely was a minor infraction in comparison to Tiger's escapades.

"Don't you think Elin knew what she was getting herself into when she agreed to marry him?" she asks.

"I've asked myself that question before, and I have to believe, in all the time they were together, she must've had some idea about his kink. But she seems like the kind of woman who'd be confident that he could change for her, that she'd be enough for him."

"Pshh," Bella spews, "I would think she'd be enough for any man. How do you stray when that's what's waiting at home for you?"

"Just because she looks amazing in a bikini doesn't mean she had everything he needed."

"From the looks of it, no one woman has everything Tiger needs."

"That's exactly why I believe he has a serious problem. Who would want to live like that? It truly is an addiction."

"Who'd want to be one of his conquests?"

I have to roll my eyes at that, because I've seen it up close and personal. I don't get it, but I've seen it. I shrug. "Bragging rights, I guess? I mean, let's say he is the absolute best lover in the universe. Is it worth it then?"

Bella blushes and looks away. "Maybe we should get back to the essays," I suggest. "Any comments for me?"

She peruses my paper, avoiding me while her normal color returns. "I think it's good, and it's entertaining, but I'd really like to hear that moment of truth between them."

"Which?"

She looks directly into my eyes and says, "That one, where he's down on his knees, admitting everything he did wrong and begging for her forgiveness. And maybe he's a little scruffy from lack of sleep, and maybe he doesn't get all the words right."

My hand goes straight to my chin before I've even realized I'm rubbing where my scruff was on Sunday. "And how does she respond to this confession?"

"I don't know, I seriously doubt she could come anywhere near forgiveness. But maybe she thanks him for finally saying something true to her?"

"Thanks, Bella. I'll write that in."

She smiles in acknowledgment. "So, what'd you think of Bill and Hillary?"

"I think your fly has some pretty big balls taking a shot at Hillary!"

"Why, you think she's blameless?"

"Hell no. God knows what kinds of bargains the two of them have made over the years. It's just that the girls he picked were so…"

"Fat? Ugly? So you're not faulting him for doing what he did, just the fact that he chose unattractive women to do it with?"

"Hey, you're twisting my words!" I complain feebly, though really she's not.

"So clarify for me," she challenges, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. I'm really starting to hate it when she does that.

"Whatever he and Hillary had worked out over the years, he was still the President, and he was in the public eye far too blatantly to be so careless. Bottom line, he shouldn't have allowed himself to get caught literally with his pants down."

"So now you're saying that the only thing he did wrong was get caught?"

"Wait a second, isn't that exactly what you were saying in your paper?"

"Yeah, I guess I was assuming she'd agreed to look the other way by that point."

"Then why are you blasting me for arguing the same point?"

"I don't know. You're a guy?"

**~BPOV~**

Okay, I realize, that wasn't quite fair of me. Now, he crosses his arms and gives me an accusatory glare.

"Anything _about my paper_ you think I should change?" I ask him cautiously.

"Well, you pretty much entirely avoided the topic of whether or not the first couple was having sex. With each other, I mean."

"Do you think it matters?"

"For one thing, the guy was fifty at the time. How many times a day do you think he could get it up?"

I slug him in the arm and scold, "Ick." Upon reconsideration, I ask, "I don't know, how many?"

He laughs. "I really don't know. Was he taking Viagra?"

I sputter, "I don't know, but he was the most powerful man in the world. I assume he could do it at least twice a day?"

I'm totally out of my element here. All I know is that James told me he gets like fifty boners a day. It would be pretty sad if that number shrank to less than two by the time a guy reaches fifty. And do I really want to be discussing the intricacies of the male machinery with Edward right now? I seriously doubt it. Especially now that I sense the shadow of Professor Banner over my shoulder. He must've been drawn our way because of our smacking and inappropriate snickering.

"As I was saying, Bella," Edward begins seriously, "I think there's a bit more dialogue you could add."

Banner holds his hand out to Edward, who looks at me sheepishly before proffering my outline to our teacher. We sit immobilized with embarrassment while he reads without comment. He hands my outline back to Edward and reaches for Edward's notebook. I hand it to him with a silent apology to my partner. A wide grin takes over Professor Banner's face.

"Let me guess. You two didn't talk about this before choosing your topics?"

Edward and I both confirm by shaking our heads. Banner shakes his head in response and returns Edward's notebook to my desk. He regards me for a moment before turning to Edward. "Tread carefully, my friend," he warns, giving Edward a squeeze on his shoulder as he passes to the next group.

O)(O

I'm just standing up to leave when Edward reaches across my desk and urgently grabs my wrist. "Bella, putt with me tomorrow? One last time?"

I roll my eyes at his drama. "What, are you dying?"

"Yes. I'm dying to have your company," he grins.

"You did not seriously just say that!"

He shrugs. "So that's a yes?"

"Oh brother."

**^EPOV^**

"Last week, my win pushed me up to number one, so now I have to play the top guy from Boston College."

"You're gonna do great today, Edward. I knew you could be number one!" she encourages me. "Hey, wait, Boston? Does that mean-"

"I don't know if it does or it doesn't, Bella. I'm looking at two things today. This ball and this face," I say, showing her my Pro-V-1 in one hand and cupping her chin with the other. "How about a kiss for luck?"

"I suppose I could -" I capture her lips before she finishes answering. Close enough- It sounded like she was about to say yes. There's a crowd drawing now at the first tee, but I'm not done yet. Anyone who's looking will see that Bella's wearing my name on her back and my lips on her front. And while they're at it, they'll see with both eyes that I'm off the market.

Jasper claps his hand on my back and says, "You're on the tee, Holden One. If you would've just stayed behind me, you could've kissed your girl an extra twenty seconds."

I grab one last taste before releasing her. I shake my opponent's hand, place my ball on the tee, and drive one straight and long to start the match.

Emmett's agreed to run interference for me on the sidelines if need be, and I see that he's taking his job extremely seriously. He's literally clearing a path for Bella and Alice along the edge of the fairway, not allowing any of the other fans to come between Bella and me. Anything even slightly inappropriate is swiftly dealt with by the Cullminator. Without Bella to worry over, I can focus on each shot, chip, and putt. The guy from BC is tough, but I have the home course advantage. Jas beats his opponent after the 15th, and it takes me one hole more to seal my own win. Because it's cold and the last two holes are irrelevant, we agree to take our scorecards in without playing the last two.

I nod to Emmett on my way in, our prearranged signal for, "Don't let Bella get away before I come out of the scorer's booth." Rosalie has joined the group this time, but I know Emmett won't allow himself to be distracted.

O)(O

Effectively dismissing Emmett, I sneak up behind Bella and wrap my arms around her waist, burying my face in her neck. "Cold?"

"Mmm hmmm," she hums.

"Want me to warm you up?" I ask hungrily.

"Mmm hmmm," she answers, turning her face toward mine.

I warm up her lips a bit with mine, then spin her around so we're toe to toe, nose to nose, knee to knee, and forehead to forehead. I rub my arms vigorously up and down her arms, up and down her back.

I place my mouth near her ear and murmur, "Maybe we should take this celebration somewhere a little bit warmer?"

"Mmm hmmm," she says once again, dreamily.

**~BPOV~**

I can't get my mind off my bed, our little green fleece blanket, and the comfort of our warm, dark cocoon for two. The sun is starting to sink into the late autumn sky. Edward's nose is cold against my neck, but his lips are so warm. I want more of his kisses, but not here, in front of everybody. I want him all to myself. Except for those few pecks at Froth, we haven't kissed in over a week.

Jasper's arm reaches around both of us as he says, "We're all going to O'Hara's to celebrate. Holden hasn't beaten BC in 35 years!"

Edward looks into my eyes and sees exactly what I'm thinking. He licks his lips in anticipation and says, "Jas, I think Bella and I are gonna- "

"Uh uh, Eduardo. You're number one. You two are coming with us. Suck it up. You guys can do that later."

Alice links her arm through mine on the other side, and the four of us skip along to the bar. By the time we arrive, the beer is already flowing freely and people are starting to unfurl their warm layers. I pull Edward's coat tightly around me, not wanting to relinquish the comfort of its warmth and Edwardness.

Everyone is congratulating everyone else; only two of the eight guys lost their matches today. Mugs are clinking, beer is sloshing, and the night wears on. Edward, of course, is drinking Diet Coke, and I join him in sobriety because I truly hate the taste of beer and how bloated it makes me feel. Talk around the table turns to Thanksgiving.

Jasper and Alice are lamenting that they're going to be separated for 100 hours, and Alice is creating a Skype schedule on her phone so they can talk at least every six hours.

"Edward, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"Johnny asks.

Edward's eyes dart around the table and he shrugs.

"You don't know what you're doing? It's next weekend."

As if it doesn't matter, Edward responds, "California's too far for the weekend. I'll probably just stay on campus."

"You can't stay here! Everyone's going to be gone. It'll be like a ghost town. Come to my house," offers one of the upperclassmen. "I'm taking the train home to New York. I'm sure my parents won't mind an extra mouth."

Edward quickly receives three more offers of hospitality. He looks like a caged animal. He sips at his drink, trying to figure out how to respond to all the kindness.

I reach for his hand under the table. Surprised, he turns his head my direction. "Come home with me," I blurt out. "Charlie's going to come pick me up in the cruiser, so it won't even cost you a penny."

As soon as I offer, the panic sets in. Oh shit…where will Edward sleep? On the living room couch? In the basement with the spiders? It's not as if we have any spare bedrooms in our small house. And what will he think of our lame Thanksgiving dinner? Though maybe this year, if Sue's around, she'll cook something other than a boneless turkey breast and sugary canned yams. And how awkward is this whole thing going to be anyways? Edward in my childhood bedroom, looking through my things, suffocating in my stifling house? Charlie grilling Edward within an inch of his life, asking embarrassing questions, making stupid jokes? Oh my god, what have I done?

"Really?" Edward asks hopefully, his eyes wide.

"Sure. Why not?" I offer again halfheartedly.

"Okay," he answers, relieved look in his eyes. "Thanks, Bella." He leans in for a sweet appreciative kiss that almost makes me forget my terror.

**^EPOV^**

Bella and Alice have made their third run to the bathroom, not that I'm counting. I take the opportunity to lean into Jasper and ask, "Are you staying at Alice's tonight?"

Jasper's eyebrows lift and he says, "That can be arranged. She's not too happy about our away match this weekend, falling right before Thanksgiving. I think she'd be…accommodating."

"Thanks, Jas," I respond, trying hard not to imagine all that an accommodating Alice might be willing to do with my friend.

"So I take it all is forgiven?" he asks hopefully.

"Not exactly, but we're working on it." I rise, seeing the girls returning. I pull Bella into my side before she has a chance to sit down again. I place my lips next to her ear and murmur, "Ready to go?"

I nuzzle my nose into her neck while she nods her head yes. I'm starting to think positive thoughts about being alone with Bella in my room, and I'm sure my eyes are a bit glassed over when I pull back to smile at her. I retrieve her/my coat from the back of her chair, holding it out behind her and helping her get inside. It doesn't fail to thrill me once again to see her wearing my prize and my name.

After she's zipped, I take her hand and lead her out of the bar and back toward our dorm.

"So, Bella, are you sure your Dad won't mind having a strange boy as a houseguest for Thanksgiving?" I'm hoping she wasn't just feeling pressured to ask in the heat of the moment. I wouldn't want to cause problems between Bella and her father.

"You're not _that_ strange," she teases.

"Ho ho ho. But seriously, you really think he'll be okay with it?"

She shrugs. "I can't imagine why not. He knows we're friends."

_Friends_. The label is both good and bad. After everything, I should be grateful she still considers me a friend. And yet, I feel the word is so grossly inadequate to describe what Bella means to me. I carefully keep my pace so she doesn't recognize that her characterization of our relationship bothers me.

"Did you finish your paper for tomorrow?"

"Yes," she answers. "And for your information, I decided that Bill and Hillary had sex once a month while he was president."

"Wow, once a month…whether they needed it or not?" I quip.

"Apparently, they didn't," she jokes back. "And Hillary never…you know…?"

"You can't even say it, can you, Bella?" I'm swinging her arm, teasing her gently because it's so much fun to make her blush.

"Blowjob. There. You happy now?"

"Yeah, actually I am pretty happy right now. How about you?" We've walked toward the back of the dorm closer to Bella's door than mine. I continue walking her to her room, so as not to be a presumptuous bastard.

"I'm pretty happy, too," she answers, stopping in front of her door. "So how did Tiger's confession go?"

"Well, first of all, Tiger has a bad knee, so he had to grovel standing up, which wasn't very effective."

"Oh no," she says with mock horror.

"And also, he answered a text message right in the middle of it all, so that didn't win him any points."

"You didn't!"

I shrug. Tiger's a shmuck. Even the guy code wouldn't dictate that I let him off the hook.

"Here we are," Bella states the obvious as she reaches for her key.

I wrap my hand around the fingers working the key into the slot, taking her by surprise. And once again, I come up behind her and nuzzle my face into her neck. I can't seem to keep my nose out of her hair, or that sweet soft spot just behind her ear. When she shivers in response, a jolt of excitement passes through me. Placing soft kisses on top of the pulse point at the base of her neck, I note with glee that her heart rate suddenly picks up considerably.

Reaching my left hand across her back to the right side of her face, I run my finger down the line of her neck, redirecting her hair off to the left so I have full access. Her bared skin teases me in all its unexplored glory. I can't resist trailing my lips up her neck, taking little wet nibbles along the way.

"Bella," I say softly.

"Hmm?" she swoons, relaxing back into my body.

"Come back to my room with me."

She stiffens at the suggestion. Shit, I've scared her. And I've completely broken the vibe we had going there. Bella pushes herself off me to stand on her own two feet. She lifts the key to the knob again, and I can see her hand shaking.

"I shouldn't," she mumbles into the door. "I have some…stuff to do."

I pull back dejectedly, silently berating myself for being such an oaf. Bella requires a slow hand. I need to work on building her trust in me, not making her think I'm trying to go for an easy score.

**~BPOV~**

Shit, shit, shit. SHIT! It's like he's got me hypnotized or something, and I'm stone cold sober. I can't think straight when he touches me like that, running his finger up my neck and humming into my ear and slathering kisses into the crook of my neck. It's just not fair!

Everything in me screams, "Stop!" I can't risk letting myself feel all the good feelings too quickly. I don't want to be a slut or a tease, especially not with Edward. I may be inexperienced, but I know that boys don't invite girls back to their rooms just to talk. I mean, I've been to Edward's before, to do homework, but his voice didn't sound so husky when he asked me then. And we hadn't been kissing first. Sure I was crushing on him before, but _now_? My body is betraying me in a hundred different ways!

I can barely catch my breath when he touches me like this. And since when do my knees not work to hold me up? It's like he's a gigantic magnet pulling me toward him and I can't resist. I want his lips on me…everywhere. And don't even get me started on Edward's hands!

I think I'm more scared of how much _I_ want than whatever it is Edward has in mind right now. All I know is I don't trust myself.

My door is now open and I burst inside, foolishly believing that I'm safe now, merely having crossed the threshold. Rose isn't back yet, and frankly, I don't even know if she's staying here tonight. I turn back to Edward hastily, my hand still on the door.

He's standing in the hall where I've abandoned him, arms at his sides, looking disappointed and unhappy at my sudden departure. Not too swift, Bella, I chastise myself.

"Congratulations again, Edward. See you tomorrow in class?"

He looks up and says, "Sure," not moving even as I close the door. The image of his thwarted expression is burned into my eyeballs as the lock clicks shut definitively.

Alone and saved from the horrors of my slutty inclinations, I roll into a ball on my bed and hug my knees in frustration_. I don't know what the hell I'm doing!_ I sense for the thousandth time since Edward invaded my life. And if I don't figure it out soon, he's going to go find someone who does. Someone who won't slam the door on his face.

A few minutes later, there's a knock at the door. Since there are very few axe murderers on campus, I pull open the door without questioning who it is, anchoring it with my knee in a last-minute compromise to my dad the cop.

It's Edward, and he hasn't moved one inch, from the looks of things. He actually looks a bit surprised that I've opened the door. His hand moves to the back of his head and he rubs at his hair.

"Do you think maybe we could rewind that whole thing and I could try not to screw it up this time?"

"You didn't do anything wrong. It's just getting late and we both have to get up early tomorrow."

"At least let me give you a proper good night kiss?"

Could I stand it? _Yes_, I decide immediately.

"You wanna come in for a minute?" He eagerly steps through the doorway when I open it a few more inches. I give the door a slight push but leave it open a crack so he gets the message that he's not staying the night here.

"Bella, when I…asked you back to my room…I hope I didn't make you think I was trying to…I mean, I wasn't expecting you to…"

He's still twirling his hair and he's so uncomfortable and worried and adorable. And above all, sexy. _Always_ sexy. I'm dying to hear what he has to say, but it's killing me not to interrupt him. I grab my lower lip between my teeth to hold the words inside.

His eyes dip to my mouth at the movement, and intensify as they lift to mine once more. "I really just wanted to be alone with you…so we could talk."

I can't help raising a skeptical eyebrow at that one. Does he think I just fell off the tuna boat last week? That stuff he was starting in the hallway wasn't talking, and we both know it.

"And maybe kiss a little," he admits sheepishly. Then quickly he amends, "Or all night."

Against my will, I let out the smile bursting through my clenched lips. Edward relaxes a bit at my reaction and finally drops his arm down from the back of his head.

"I've missed you, Bella," he says in his husky voice, taking a step closer and tentatively placing his hands on my hips.

"I'm right here." I'm shocked at the breathy sound of my own voice when I answer.

"Not close enough," he responds, with the slightest shake of his head.

I take a step forward so our toes are touching, and now his arms are encircling my waist lightly.

"Not close enough," he repeats, his eyes burning into mine and flicking to my lips every third beat. _Eyes, eyes, lipsssss. Eyes, eyes, lipsssss._

He's making _me_ choose this, albeit providing the instructions per usual. I advance another half step, sliding my left foot into the space between his, and my right around the outside. The expression '_locked and loaded'_ comes to mind unbidden. I try not to think about what might be loaded just in front of me, but he's rather hard to ignore, especially with my thigh pressed right into his khakis. And now, _'fully cocked'_ crosses my overthinking brain.

Before I have a chance for an inner eye roll, Edward tips his head and narrows the distance between our lips. Not moving his searing eyes from mine, he whispers, "So much better," just before covering my lips with his own.

Dear God, the way this boy makes me feel with his kisses. Where have all my hard-won muscles gone all of a sudden? They've abandoned me, along with my will power to resist him, leaving me one big pile of mush. My head starts its familiar swirling and I'm so light, drifting away on pillowy clouds of happy.

I feel the softest hint of tongue just inside his mouth, tapping politely for entry, as his knuckles did just moments ago on my door. Cautiously, I open just a crack, giving him an opening but at the same time, tacitly requesting great care on his part.

He's sensitive as always to my apprehension and advances gently and slowly. That he kisses so competently is both wonderful and terrible, and I pull back at once, a prisoner to my insecurities about the experience gap between us.

**^EPOV^**

"Sorry," I apologize immediately, brushing my tongue across my lower lip to draw in the lingering taste of Bella before it disappears. "Too fast?"

"No, it was…fine," she says. _Fine?_ I was hoping for _mind-blowing_. "It's just…"

"You're thinking about the other girls now," I realize miserably. That's exactly why I never wanted to have to tell her about my other kisses.

"Weren't _you_?" she accuses.

I take her face between both hands and grab her eyes with mine, hoping like hell I'm conveying she's the only girl I see. "Not for one second, Bella."

I can tell right away that she can't accept my denial at face value. Desperate to convince her, my mind clicks back to our snowflake discussion, and I name this last kiss.

"Ever since my match ended tonight, I've been aching to have you all to myself, not in the middle of a coffee shop or a crowded bar, but just the two of us, in private, so I could give you the kind of kiss that says, 'I'm so fucking grateful you've given me another chance.'"

"Okay," she answers simply.

"Okay?" I'm going just a little bit crazy here.

She smiles and says, "Okay, I don't believe with all that going on in your head you had much time to think about other girls."

"So what do you say to coming down the hall with me and continuing this conversation?" I ask cautiously.

"Edward," she's going to say no. "I'm just not ready for that."

"Bella, I hope you'd never be afraid of me. You know I'd never push you, right?" I can say with clear conscience that I'd never take advantage of her.

"I know," she says fairly convincingly. "Let's just give this some time."

Time is all we don't have, with a two-day interruption on the horizon. At least Thanksgiving will give us a great chance to get to know each other better, away from school work, other guys, golf, roommates. None of that, I muse, just a protective father with loaded guns at his fingertips.

"All right, then. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

I gather up what's left of my pride, give her a think-of-me-in-your-dreams kiss, and make my exit.

~**BPOV**~

Friday night drags on without Edward, and I rethink my decision for the thousandth time to send him packing last night. "A boy won't chase a bus he's already caught," my father's drummed into me. "Yeah, but he can't ride the bus if he doesn't catch it," I would torture him back.

Truth is, I'm petrified of riding that bus. Scared of getting carried away, letting myself go. Scared I won't be exciting enough or my body won't be good enough. Scared Edward won't respect me if I do what I think I want to do with him, which is just about everything. Scared I might not respect myself. Scared I won't ever want to _stop_ doing all those things once I find out how amazing they are to do with Edward!

He was so sweet after class today, giving me more kisses with special names so that I know that each one is just for me. My favorite was the you-better-miss-me-while-I'm-gone kiss, followed closely by the I-won't-even-notice-another-girl kiss.

O)(O

Saturday is the final football game of the season. Rose takes her usual seat of honor, and I join her with Alice, Bree (who's not so bad when Edward's not around), and Emmett's non-teammate friends. I proudly wear Cullen on my back and there's no question about my loyalty.

I follow Edward's progress on the athletic blog, and congratulate him once he's won. I have to press 'ignore' when he calls because I can't possibly hear a word sitting in the middle of the stadium, but I quickly text him back and we make a plan to talk later.

Rose isn't too happy with me when I bow out of celebrating with the team, but she understands. I have an important phone call to make before I talk with Edward again.

Back in the room, I text Charlie _411_, our code for 'I just want to talk, no emergency, call when you're free.' Seconds later, my phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Bells, how are you?"

"I'm good, Dad. Real good. How are you?"

"Doing just fine. So, what's your schedule next week? When should I come up and get you?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about…"

Disappointment tinges his words, "Bells, you haven't made other plans?"

"No," I answer right away. "Nothing like that. I still want to come home."

"Okay. Good. What then?"

"Is it okay if I bring a friend?"

"Sure. We've always got room for one more at the table. Besides, we're going to Sue's this year…if it's okay with you."

"Oh, yeah, sure, whatever." If he's worried I have some kind of sentimental attachment to sitting in the TV room watching football and balancing my plate of food and sparkling apple cider in my lap, he needn't.

"So, who is she?"

"Actually, Dad…it's Edward Cullen. My writing partner?"

Silence.

"You're bringing home a boy?"

"If it's okay with you. He's got nowhere to go. He's from California, and it's too far, and his brother is going to Rose's-" I'm babbling and evading and hoping Charlie won't pick up on my anxiety.

"Are you and this boy…together?" He has mad interrogation skills.

"No, Dad. We're friends. Well, I mean, maybe not _just_ friends, but it's not like-" If you took an awkward situation and gave it steroids and magnified it under a 1000x lens, that might begin to describe this conversation.

Charlie exhales loudly, the universal signal that he's given in because he simply can't bear to discuss the topic further. Works for me!

"Fine, Bella. He can sleep in the basement."

"But Dad, there are spiders in the basement!"

"I'll vacuum." His tone has an air of finality.

"Fine."

"And I'm going to have a talk with him. Just so you're prepared."

How on earth might I prepare myself for that? Or poor Edward! Now I exhale in resignation. "Fine."

"Great," he says cheerily. "Text me on Tuesday and let me know what time. I've taken all of Wednesday off."

"Thanks, Dad. See you soon."

"_Stay safe_." His warning is menacing.

O)(O

I plop down on my bed, exhausted from the Inquisition of Chief Swan, just in time to receive Edward's call.

"Hey, congrats!"

"Thanks."

"You sound funny."

"I'm just tired. And so done with golf season. Glad there's only one more match."

"How were the groupies today?"

"What groupies?"

"Oh, come on, Edward."

"Fine. They were well-behaved. And there were no familiar faces."

"Thank you," I say, letting him know his honesty means everything to me.

"So what are you doing tonight?" he asks.

"Not much, probably catching up on my reading for Am Lit so I don't have to do it over Thanksgiving. Speaking of which, I talked to my Dad and you are officially invited."

"Why do you not sound excited? Second thoughts?"

"I need to warn you, Charlie wants to have a _con-ver-sa-tion_ with you."

"Oh yeah?" he sounds amused. "What did you tell him about me?"

"That you're my writing partner."

"Oh, you flatter me, Bella."

I can't send him into the lion's den without full disclosure. "Okay, I told him we're more than just friends."

I can practically see his smile through the phone. Mmm, note to self: get Edward's picture for my contact list.

"Did you tell him we've already slept together?" he digs. "Or should I?"

"NO! And don't even joke about that!" I attempt to be stern, but I'm not sure I pull it off. "I apologize in advance for what you're going to endure."

"Bella, don't sweat it. I'm good with parents."

"You're probably great with moms, but Charlie's not so easy to charm."

"We'll just see about that," Edward says, rising to the challenge.

"How do you feel about ice fishing?"

"I can't say that's a popular pastime in California," he teases.

"Maybe you should Google it," I suggest nervously.

"Don't worry, Bella. It'll be fine," he chuckles. "Hey, Jazz is bugging me to get off the phone now. We're gonna go light up the booming metropolis of Bethel."

That doesn't sound too good to me. "Well, have a good time," I say half-heartedly.

"Bella, I was kidding. We're going to get a burger in the hotel pub. It's our last night as a team, and the coach is doing some kind of awards night roast."

"Well, enjoy, Holden One."

"G'night, Bella. I miss you."

"Yeah, me too."

**^EPOV^**

_B-Went out in a blaze of glory! Jas and I both made Top Ten New England Conference Golfers to Watch! _

_E- GREAT NEWS! When do you get back? xb_

_B-On bus now. Should arrive at 4:30. Dinner together? XE (big kiss)_

_E-Sounds good (dinner and kiss). Call when you get here. xb_

"Bella?" Jas asks, already knowing the answer from the smile on my face.

"Yup."

"Good," he says, popping in his earbuds and cranking up his iPod.

I could've done much worse in the roommate department.


	13. Thanksgiving

**11/21/2011 Thanksgiving**

**~BPOV~**

'_Your fly certainly had an interesting perspective on the First Couple's love life! Bold choice, creative writing, clever dialogue. A'_

Edward reads his comments and holds his paper out for the switch. Sometimes, I feel like we're an old married couple reading the Sunday times over bagels and coffee. So comfortable, so much that moves between us without the need for words.

'_Could've managed without some of the more graphic texts, but I applaud your effort to write what was most likely spoken. Nice sense of conversational flow, excellent word choice, loved the banter about club selection. Spoken like a golfer. A'_

Our A's are coming easier each week, but I don't think it's because Banner's lowering his standards. We're all getting better. The peer review works, and of course, it's brought me Edward.

"Let's take a look at some really crisp dialogue samples…" Banner is off and running. It's impossible to focus today with Edward's upcoming visit to my house. There's so much potential for disaster in this weekend that I can hardly sit still worrying about it all.

But then again, there's so much that could go right. Edward away from school, away from fans, away from homework. With me. For four blissful days and nights. Before long, the hour has passed and we're getting the sendoff from Banner to have a safe Thanksgiving break.

"Anything looming before break?" I ask as we pass through the doorway.

"I have a Jazz midterm tomorrow morning," he says.

"What's that like?"

"The teacher plays a snippet and we have to identify the composer."

"Can I help you study?" I'm done with my work and listening to music with Edward sounds like a grand idea.

"You want to quiz me using my iPod?"

"Sure. After Riley?"

He smiles. "Still seeing Riley? How's it going?"

It crosses my mind in one wild moment to lift my shirt and show Edward the outline of my four-pack, and damn him for noticing.

"Why are you blushing right now?"

I shake it off. "It's going well. Riley's great."

He studies my expression curiously for a moment longer but lets it drop.

**^EPOV^**

Easy. "Roy Hargrove."

She smiles, nods, shuffles to the next. "Chick Corea. Thelonious Monk. Tito Puente. Miles Davis. Count Basie?"

"Try again," she prods gently.

"Branford Marsalis."

"Okay, Edward, you've gotten 24 of 25 right. I think you're ready."

"Ask me the rest," I say, not because I'm worried about my midterm. But because Bella looks so completely adorable sitting cross-legged across from me on my bed, concentrating on the task of making sure I feel thoroughly quizzed.

"Fine, five more," she agrees.

I'm not about to get one wrong just to keep her here; Bella's always more impressed with my best effort anyways. I rattle off the final five, and she smirks and drops the iPod onto my comforter.

Only slightly chagrined, she crosses her arms and says, "Edward, you didn't need me."

Well, _that_ certainly won't do. "Oh, I beg to differ," I counter, immediately tipping forward and knee-walking until I'm perched right next to her. "Now how could I do _this_ if you weren't here?" Leaning in, I press my lips against hers. Neither one of us is anchored, and it's not surprising when we flop over into a delightfully horizontal position.

Her giggling is the best brand of music to my ears, and I playfully nip at her nearest ear.

"What time is your Dad coming tomorrow?" Her father, the Chief. The guy with the virginal daughter and the loaded weaponry.

"Around two. You're done at 1, right?"

"Yeah, but won't that get us in a pile of traffic going back?"

She grins and informs me, "He's bringing the cruiser."

"Sirens and lights, all the way to Boston?" my inner little boy asks incredulously.

She snorts. "Not all the way, just where the traffic gets backed up."

I can't stop the starry-eyed 8-year-old from oozing excitement.

"Oh my God, you're such a boy," she observes with an accusatory shake of her head.

Rubbing her nose gently with mine, I answer, "And here, I was almost positive you liked that about me."

I proceed to remind her that she does indeed enjoy my boyness. As usual, kissing Bella gets me a bit worked up, and I reach that point where my heart has to take over for other, less intelligent body parts.

Like my right hand, for example, which seems to be wandering of its own volition, from the silky smoothness of her hair, traversing the fluffy terrain of the sweater covering her left arm, to the concavity at her waist. Though my hand stops there, its thumb is seemingly caught in an infinite loop. Around and around, tipping over the precipice of her left hip, where my heart reminds it to stay. No, it would be more accurate to say my heart is begging.

And my right foot, locked inside the safety and comfort of my 12-in-a-pack, standard-issue, ankle high Nike athletic socks, ventures boldly between her striped knee socks. Causing her toes to curl and point and flex and trap my foot between them.

And my knees and my thighs are just dumb enough to allow the torturous contact, even though it's so very dangerous for those parts to be touching hers.

And then there's my stupid, stupid penis, which doesn't have the good graces to mind its own business.

_Come on, you guys, _begs the heart_. Brain, help me out here, will ya?_

Calling in the brain is a drastic move. It's like the decision to call Mom when Emmett used to pick on me, back in the day. You have to be in pretty desperate straits to invite Mom into the fight, because it always ends the same way. Utter, immediate, enforced separation. And that's how the brain deals as well, once I put her in charge. Yeah, the smartest part of me is a girl. I'm no dummy. Who else could control the penis?

Starting with said overly enthusiastic body part and working my way back up to my lips, I peel myself away, with a mournful moan. And the only good thing about it is that Bella makes the same desperate noise right back.

**~BPOV~**

I seem to have climbed aboard the runaway train to Slutsville. What _is_ it with Edward's kisses? And that wandering hand and its crazy circling thumb? I have an uncontrollable urge to draw his whole leg between mine and what the hell is _that_ about anyways? I feel achy in a croony Country-Western kind of way. I know for sure it's Edward's fault, but I'm not really sure how to fix it.

I'm a good girl; I'm not supposed to want what I'm pretty sure I want. For starters, Edward's hands on me. Everywhere. _Everywhere_.

Just when I'm considering how I might make this happen, Edward pulls back suddenly, and the two of us are left panting on the bed, blinking at each other like two boxers who've just gone four rounds. I can still feel his breath on my nose, but his hand, his feet, and, _dammit_, his thighs are all several inches from me now. I don't know if I'm relieved or angry he's had the willpower to stop this.

Rationally, I recognize that it's not fair to feel angry, especially considering I've been actively turning down his advances since last Thursday. He's showing enormous self-control and respect by pulling back, and by every measure of a good man, I should be impressed and grateful.

But right now, my body seems to be overruling my upbringing, and I just _need_.

I know my part in this dance. Edward will wait for me to take the first step. And then he'll take over, gently and patiently, watching for the first sign that I'm putting on the brakes.

Having pried ourselves apart several minutes earlier, you'd think we wouldn't still be firing laser beams into each other's eyes at such close range. But the intensity hasn't waned since he backed off. I'm at a crossroads, and I'm sure he sees it.

Without saying a word, I reach between us and take Edward's hand. His eyes are riveted on mine, and his breathing appears to slow to a full stop. I pull his long, capable fingers toward the spot where my sweater hits the top of my pants. His eyebrows lift slightly in question, but I don't answer them. Not with words, anyways.

My hand slips under the hem of my sweater, bringing his along for the guided tour. There's still a cotton tee shirt between his hand and my stomach, but I can feel his fingers with such intensity that I could accurately sketch a diagram of his fingerprints. I drag him slowly up my brand new abs, loving the way his fingers leave a trail of tingles in their wake.

I'm starting to enjoy myself immensely, right up to the point where he captures my hand inside his and slams on the brakes.

"Hey," he says quietly, that intensity in his eyes making it seem like we're the last two humans on the planet. Just us, right here, on this bed.

"Hmmm?" I hum innocently. _Who me? What did I do?_

"You sure?" He rubs his thumb across my knuckles to punctuate his statement.

I can feel the blood rushing to my face to coat me in a fine sheen of humiliation. _Yes, Edward, I'm sure I'm a total slut for you._ My eyes dart up, down, sideways, anywhere but back to his. Before I can figure out how to answer, his lips swoop in and capture mine in a reassuring gesture of appreciation for my forward motion.

It's a solid kiss, but it's not the can't-think-straight, gotta-have-my-clothes-off-soon kind we'd been doing just before this. It's clear that Edward is totally in control of himself and he's not going to let this get out of hand. Which only makes me want him that much more.

He pulls away to check on my answer, and I nod quickly.

**^EPOV^**

"Take off your sweater, Bella." I don't recognize my own voice, dripping with barely contained glee.

I don't want this to be about groping. I saw what that beast James did to her. Bella's lips turn up at the corners, and she grasps the hem of the sweater with her arms crossed at the bottom. Squirming her body along the bed, she shimmies the sweater up over her t-shirt, past her head, and throws it inelegantly to the floor.

I scoot myself right up alongside her body and take her right hand in my left, interweaving our fingers and holding her hand at her side between us on the bed. A familiar connection to anchor her. Bella's other hand doesn't know where to be, and she's too embarrassed to put it where I want it, so I do it myself. I guide her left hand to her other side and gently place it on the bed, out of my path. Perched on my side, I can see the breath filling her lungs, raising her chest, picking up speed as I watch. I lean in once more to kiss her and reassure her that she's the one in charge.

"Stop me any time, Bella." _Please, don't want to stop me, Bella._

She rolls her eyes a little bit, as if to say, _Get on with it, already_! and I can't help but grin.

The lights aren't bright, but it's not exactly romantic either. If I'd planned this better, I would've dimmed them before we got ourselves into this position. There's no way I'm going to risk getting up right now and breaking the mood. Plan B.

I nuzzle my lips into the crook of her neck, "Close your eyes."

"Only if you do, too," she bargains.

I'm pretty sure she can feel my smile against her collar bone. Keeping my face buried in her neck, I say, "Deal."

Without further ado, my hand takes its place on her stomach, over the t-shirt. I can feel the outline of her abs and I'd love to compliment her, but I don't want to do anything to make her feel self-conscious. This doesn't seem the moment for playfulness. We're embarking together on one of Bella's firsts, and I afford an air of respect to what's about to happen. Her breathing hitches as I travel north, tracing feathery patterns with my fingertips and thumb. I run my fingers right up the middle of her breasts and caress her neck, causing her to gasp and moan. She giggles in embarrassment.

"Time out," I call, lifting my hand from her neck and searching around blindly on the bed for my iPod. Batting my right hand against the bed all around us yields me nothing. I surrender finally and reluctantly open my eyes, spotting the metal rectangle just below our feet. I grab it between my socks and ferry it up to my right hand, which reaches behind me without letting go of Bella's hand to set it on the dock. I hit play and immediately recognize the distinctive sounds of Yusef Lateef. Superior background music for this particular moment.

Satisfied at the stage now set, I ask, "Now, where were we?"

I kiss her eyes closed once more and trail my hand from her cheekbone, down the side of her neck, right down the valley of the shadow of the boobs. She's slightly less inhibited now that the music is covering up her responses, but my fingertips know exactly what's what. I can feel every offbeat flutter right through her thin tee.

**~BPOV~**

I wish Edward was still kissing me and swallowing my embarrassing moans. Though his jazz recordings are helping, I still sound like a wanton woman to my own ears. And I know he wants my hand out of the way, but holding it still is about the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I wonder if he'd mind if I tangle my fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp with my nails, but I don't move to try it.

I focus all my energy on the random pattern his fingers are making across my shirt. He circles widely around my breasts, first one side, then the other, skating a maddening figure eight but not quite touching me where I want him to. With each pass of his hand, he comes just a tiny bit closer. I can't tell if his intention is to be cautious or to tease the fuck out of me, but the result is the same either way. And now, finally, on this latest pass around my right side, his fingertips brush across my bra. Since I've lost so much weight, I no longer need the industrial strength sports bra with maximum coverage for everyday wear. Therefore, it's a thinner material trapping me inside, keeping out his hand, than he would've encountered two months earlier. But still, I can barely feel him.

The lack of satisfying contact is unacceptable, all of a sudden, and I still his hand with mine. He opens his eyes instantly and apologizes.

"No, Edward, it's not that." Ugh, I think talking about it is more embarrassing than actually _doing_ it! "Just…could you maybe…close your eyes again? Just for a sec?"

He looks at me quizzically but obeys without question. I suppose guys who are getting their hands on boobs will do pretty much whatever they're asked in order to make that happen.

I bolt upright and undo my bra as quickly as I'm able, sliding it under the sides of my shirt and tossing it gently to the floor with my sweater. I pull my t-shirt back down before the tantalizing possibility of discarding it, too, has a chance to persuade me. The track on the iPod changes and Ella Fitzgerald clicks on, sending warm tones throughout the room. I scoot back down and give Edward the a-okay tap on his shoulder. I'm pretty sure he knows what I've been up to, but he doesn't comment, thank God.

"Bella?" he starts with a rasp.

"Hmm?"

"I kind of hate keeping my eyes closed. Do you mind? I really need to see your face."

Everything else is covered anyways, so I tell him, "Sure." This time, when his fingers brush against me, I feel the faintest scratch of his nails, the slightest warmth of the pads of his fingers, the lightest touch of his palm as it runs over the crest of my nipple. And the first thought I can gather is, "How soon can you do that again?" But luckily, my filter's working tonight, and I don't say it out loud. He heads to the other side, and I can practically hear breast number one crying with envy. The second time is even better, because I already know how great it's going to feel before he even touches me.

Back and forth he goes, giving equal time to both sides. And after several passes, he lifts his hand and brushes one finger down the side of my face, moving the hair back behind my ear. I panic that he might be ending our foray into sexual adventure, but I recognize this move as one of his checkpoints.

"You still doing okay?" he asks.

Well, no, actually. Now that you've stopped, I'm doing quite terribly. "Mmm hmmm," I reassure, trying not to sound desperate or slutty, though I feel both.

"Should I stop?"

NO!

"Mmm Mmm," I hum with deceptive calm.

The corners of his mouth lift at my answer, and I feel him shimmy closer to me on the bed so now his front is lined up against my side. His toes wriggle around against mine, and I'm not even sure he knows he's doing it. His right hand journeys once again to my chest, and this time, he cups my whole breast in his hand, surprising me and causing me to gasp. His thumb swipes across the nipple, which is standing up tall and shouting, "HERE I AM! COME AND TOUCH ME!" I never knew my nipples could speak, but Edward coaxes all kinds of responses out of my body I never knew before. He answers by squeezing my shouty nipple between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a gentle pinch. My eyes roll back in my head and my knees come up and my breathing picks up and my mouth goes dry. Edward lets out a deep chuckle, but it's the kind that says he's happy, not that he's making fun of my response.

He repeats the whole squeezing thing on the other side, and feels it necessary to tell me, "Your tits are exactly the perfect size for my hands." I must look at him with a skeptical glare because he hastens to add, "I'm serious. They're an exact fit."

"I'm really happy for all of you." Well, what is the proper response to that comment?

"You know you're totally adorable right now," he responds, unperturbed at my sarcasm.

"Okaaaayy?"

"And while I'm on the subject, you have a really sexy six-pack started here," he says, brushing his hand along my abs and giving the new muscles a faint squeeze.

"A starter pack. Thanks." I'm not even close to mad.

"Bella, I hope you know you're extremely sexy."

I burst out laughing. "You don't have to say stuff like that, Edward."

"I know I don't. I'm saying it because it's true. Trust me, I wouldn't lie about that."

"Sure. What guy would ever lie when he's got his hands on a girl's tits?"

I was going for light mockery, but he pulls his hand back as if he knocked into a hot burner, and his smile evaporates instantly. He looks wounded.

"Shit, Edward. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Did I push you too far?"

"Are you kidding me? I practically _jumped_ you! I was just teasing. Gah! I don't know how-"

"To do this. Yeah, I've heard," he says, crossing his arms over his chest, as if placing them in time out.

I tip onto my side to face him and pry open his arms. "Don't go away, Edward. Please don't go away."

He immediately opens his arms and pulls me in, placing a kiss on the top of my head and rocking us gently. "I'm right here, Bella."

His muscular arms around me feel more soothing than anything I can ever remember. I feel safe and cared for. And my nipples are doing a happy dance at the close contact with Edward's chest.

**^EPOV^**

_Buyer's remorse_. The psych term pops into my head as I clutch Bella in my arms. The guilty heavy feeling of regret following a splurge outside of one's comfort zone. Generally followed by a reversal of the purchase. A merchandise return. Since she can't take back what we've just done, the merchandise in question would be…me.

_Fuck!_ My biggest fear playing out not ten minutes after my first touch. Have I just set a new speed record?

I'm just pondering how many steps backward our new step forward will cost when I notice for the first time her thinly shielded nipples brushing up against my tee-shirt-covered chest. Seems somebody's still happy to see me.

_Down boy_. That shit is off the table.

"I should probably head back," she mumbles into my neck.

I break my grip grudgingly and kiss her forehead as she pulls back. "Can I walk you?"

"I think I'll be safe going around the corner. But thanks," she adds.

It's not exactly the walk of shame, but the question of Bella's bra presents itself. She solves the problem skillfully, I admire, by pulling on her sweater and stuffing the offending lingerie into her pocket. Well, except for the little end of strap poking out.

The least I can do is walk her to my door and give her a parting kiss.

"Good luck on your Jazz tomorrow. I'll meet you back here around 1:30?"

"Great. Is there anything special I need to bring?" I suppose condoms are seriously out of the question. _Banish the thought, pervert_.

"Charlie's as casual as they come. Just be comfortable."

"What about…well, do you think we might have a chance to go out by ourselves one night?"

She smiles at the idea, which clearly hadn't occurred to her earlier. "Yeah. That'd be fun!"

"Then I'm gonna pack my jacket, and you should bring your favorite dress."

"Okay, Edward. I'll pick us a nice spot." She squeezes my hand and gives me another quick kiss before turning away.

O)(O

"Will you stop fidgeting?" she pleads.

"Sorry. I didn't think I'd be so nervous." Shit, I'm _never_ this nervous.

She soothes me with a kiss that deepens into a major makeout session, and I'm just starting to feel relaxed when the blue flashing lights approach behind her. I pull away like the criminal I am, the guy who's been stealing all kinds of Bella's firsts and has major ideas about taking more when the time is right.

Bella rolls her eyes at her dad's antics but doesn't seem a bit surprised.

Her father double parks the car in the No Stopping Zone and steps out of the car. Considering it's his day off, I'm pretty fucking surprised when he steps away from the door in full police regalia, complete with cap, handcuffs and billy club. And let's not forget the loaded weapon, folks.

"Ohmygod!" Bella mutters under her breath.

Chief Swan does the hands-on-hips, puffed-out-chest, wide-legged cop walk over to me, and I'm half expecting him to command, "Spread 'em!" My heart is beating and I'm feeling every bit the guilty perp.

"Edward Cullen?" he booms.

_We have a warrant for your arrest_.

"Yes, Sir," I squeak like a scared girl.

"Chief Swan, Boston PD," he answers, holding out his right hand for mine.

I return the gesture immediately, taking his hand in a firm grip that hopefully says, _'I'm a man worthy of your daughter and I'm not challenging your strength or superiority.'_

He clenches my hand in a semi-death grip and if golf season weren't over, I might pull back for fear of being crushed beyond rehabilitation. Even more menacing are his eyes, which bore into mine with the promise of certain bodily harm if I make one wrong move. Thank God he's not psychic because I doubt he would much appreciate my very fond memories of…well, fondl_ing_ last night.

"Very nice to meet you, Sir," I sputter, attempting not to sound like a huge pussy once again.

He says nothing but gives the slightest nod and gives one final shake before releasing my hand. My fingers sing with relief and I resist pulling my hand in and soothing my aching joints. The Chief smirks just a hair, with what seems like it might be admiration for my stoicism.

He turns to Bella, and his persona shifts immediately from Terminator into Daddy.

"Bells," he says warmly, opening his arms.

She walks into his grip with a slightly accusatory expression, but all is soon forgiven. It doesn't take a genius to see how much they mean to each other, though words between them are reserved and few.

"Ready to go?" he asks, grasping her luggage one second before I can. And just in case there were any questions about our configuration for the next three hours, he opens the back door and warns me, "Watch your head, kid."

_Fuck. Me_. The only things missing from the familiar scene are the head shove and the handcuffs, which thankfully remain hooked to his belt loop.

Round one goes to the Chief.

**~BPOV~**

Two hours of enforced separation later, I finally cave. I know Dad likes to drive straight through but my inability to sit this close to Edward without any physical contact has now overtaken my fear of incurring Charlie's disdain.

Praying that he won't make me elaborate, I venture,"Dad, could we stop at the next rest area?"

He sighs heavily but says, "Sure." I silently thank him for not asking me why I didn't go before we left.

The second the car pulls into a spot, Edward's got his door open and he's rushing to open mine before Dad even has his seat belt unfastened. How romantic, opening the front door of the police cruiser for me. On our date to the Route 93 Rest Area Number 45 Sanitary Facilities. Not to mention the armed chaperone.

Dad stands to stretch but doesn't follow us inside with anything other than his watchful eyes. Edward's fingers bump against mine, but we don't act on our urge to twine them together. Once the automatic glass doors clang shut behind us, Edward grabs me by the wrist and tugs me over to the Burger King condiment station against the wall, out of Charlie's line of vision at long last.

Checking over his shoulder one last time and finding no reason to fear for his life, Edward slips his hand around the back of my head just before pleading, "Gimme!" and slamming me into the brick wall with his hips. He smashes his lips against mine with a loud needy moan whose origin I can't determine, and really, who cares anymore?

He's clutching and crashing and devouring and I'm taking and writhing and whimpering. And finally, there's just not enough oxygen getting to my brain, and I have to push him off with a hand on his chest. Our foreheads are connected and we're heaving like two starved lovers who haven't seen each other for a year. Edward's mouth opens up into a huge smile, and all of a sudden, he starts shaking with laughter.

He gives his head an adorable shake, and says, "Wow."

"So what kind of kiss was that?" I ask, because I truly love that he's original every single time.

"Oh let's see. How about 'I've been in the backseat staring at your head for the last two hours trying to figure out how I could get you alone for one second so I could kiss you without your father putting a bullet through my head'?

"Would you like some fries with that?"

"Nah, I'm good," he laughs. "So do you really have to go to the bathroom?"

"No, but I'm going to anyways. Charlie has mad deduction skills. You should go too."

He shakes his head but doesn't question my advice.

I take a long, hard look at myself in the bathroom mirror. Puffy lips, wild eyes, unconcealable happiness. There's no way Charlie's not going to know what we've been up to. I'm a goner. No, Edward's a goner.

**^EPOV^**

I wait just inside the door for Bella and we walk back to the car together. Charlie's already got it open for her and he gives me an extra hard stare as I scoot into the back. Too late, Chief. Round two already went to Edward Cullen.

O)(O

"Got your seat belt on, Edward?" Chief Swan asks, weaving his way skillfully through the congestion on the road.

"Always," I answer.

"All right, kids. Here we go." He snaps the switch on the dashboard, and the blue lights start to swirl. Cars pull right and left, leaving us a clear path. I can't help the broad grin that breaks across my face. I always loved playing Cops and Robbers with Emmett, and he always obliged me by taking the role of bad guy. I do a mean imitation of a siren, but I doubt the Chief would be impressed. Bella glances back at me and I try to quickly mask my childish glee, but it's too late. I've been exposed. Busted would be more accurate, considering my current location.

"Oh brother," she says, rolling her eyes but smiling.

O)(O

The cruiser finally comes to a halt in front of a cozy two-story house at the end of a quiet dead-end street. I hop out in time to open Bella's door before the Chief comes around. He acknowledges my victory with a half-smirk. Bella is less amused.

"Would you two cut it out, please? I can open my own damn door anyways."

"Not while _I'm_ around," I contradict her.

Before she can make her rebuttal, her eyes catch on something in front of the house and her mouth drops open in surprise. She steps closer to get a better view, then turns to her father. "Was there something growing here, Dad?"

My eyes shift upwards to the bedroom window. I recall Bella's reluctant description of the lattice-patterned curtains her mother made to reflect down upon her garden.

The Chief comes up next to Bella and places his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, Bells. Sue…spruced things up a bit this year."

I catch the subtle tip of Bella's head toward her dad's shoulder and his answering squeeze. I know better than to intrude on this moment, so I busy myself getting our bags out of the trunk.

Finally, Bella straightens up, turns to Charlie and says, "Good. That's real good, Dad. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," he says, giving her a parting kiss on the top of her head before breaking away.

With the closing _thunk_ of the trunk, they both remember at once that I'm still here. Charlie reaches for Bella's suitcase. "I'll take that, son."

"I'm fine," I insist.

"It's gonna be a long weekend," Bella says, pushing up the front stoop and leaving us posturing like two little boys fighting over a new box of Crayolas.

O)(O

"Yeah, so, this is it," Bella says anxiously from just inside the front door.

"It's great, Bella. Just how I pictured it." I hope she can ease up some or this is going to be torturous. For all of us.

"Want a tour?"

"Sure."

She pushes ahead of me, wringing her hands together nervously. "So, this is the Living Room slash TV Room."

I look around briefly while she scurries forward into the kitchen. The house is tidy and functional, but doesn't necessarily smack of happy childhood memories. The walls have some generic artwork. No family photos, I notice. The bookshelves are filled, but the volumes could just as well be on display at a public library, for all the warmth they give off.

I walk through the passage into the kitchen after her, just in time to catch Bella in a mad rush at the refrigerator. Magnets in all sizes and shapes are flying to the floor and Bella's holding a growing stack of artifacts. She stops suddenly when she sees that I'm watching and belatedly folds her left arm and its contents behind her back.

"You gonna make me wrestle you for that?" I ask her.

She's blushing madly and her breathing has picked up a bit.

I hold out my hand, just like I do every Monday in class. She doesn't respond, so I wiggle the fingers at the end of my upturned palm. She shakes her head no and takes a step backwards, toward the corner. I step forwards. She backs up again, and we continue this strange dance until she's trapped between me and the kitchen counter.

I reach around and coax her arm gently out front. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I ask, "What's here that I don't already know about you?"

**~BPOV~**

The report cards and gushing commentary from teachers would be embarrassing enough. The fact that Charlie still keeps these things plastered to the fridge a full six months after I've graduated, even worse. But most horrifying are all the pictures of Fat Bella that represented what were supposed to be the happiest moments of my life. I know Edward saw me this way when we first met, but I'm 34 pounds lighter now, and don't need to be providing him with any visual reminders of my former self.

"Nothing," I answer, and then take the offensive. "So why are you so intent on seeing everything?"

He drops his hands to his sides and steps back to release me from my captivity.

"Sorry, Bella. I think I might've been an asshole just now."

My heartbeat returns to normal with his retreat, but I don't want him to feel bad. "It's just weird to come back home. I feel like an entirely different person than the girl who grew up here."

Suddenly my house just feels so small, like it's shrunk in size along with me. And I can't quite reconcile this gorgeous, larger than life…um, classmate, friend, _boyfriend?_...in my kitchen?

He nods in understanding, and the hurt melts away from his expression.

"So, can I get you something to drink, or eat? Though I can hardly imagine there'd be any food in this refrigerator since-" I open the door while I'm talking, and cannot believe my eyes. On every shelf there are containers of food, portioned into little Ziploc containers with labels and cooking instructions on each. The drink shelf has four different kinds of fruit juice, along with Charlie's telltale Rolling Rock six-pack, pushed to the side in favor of healthier options. I open up the crisper drawers to find apples, oranges, grapes, and bowls full of berries.

"Wow," I observe, with new reverence for Sue Clearwater. No wonder Dad looks so fit and healthy. Not to mention happy.

"I'll take one of those apples," Edward says directly into my left ear. Not realizing how close he's moved, I startle and pop up, clutching my heart, and inadvertently back up into his hard body behind me. Mmmm, not so bad after all. I feel the rumble of his laughter right through his shirt as he reaches right around me and pulls an apple from the lower drawer.

We're still both practically inside the refrigerator, and he holds the apple out to me first. "Bite?" the serpent said to Eve.

I turn my head sideways to get a look because I have a pretty solid feeling that he's adorable right now. Yup. I take a big bite out of his apple, and he just stands there and grins at me while the juice runs down my chin. My tongue reaches out to swipe the errant liquid, and the smile on his face turns into something else, something much darker.

He reaches out his tongue and "helps" me mop up the rest, and finishes off the job with a deep kiss.

"Ahemmm," comes a grumble behind us, and we both turn to look over Edward's shoulder at a less than amused police chief.

O)(O

"All right, kids, I'm going over to Sue's for a while. I'm only a phone call away if you need me," he says pointedly to me, while giving Edward a warning glare.

"Thanks, Dad. I think we'll be okay here."

He backs out the front door, keeping his steely eyes on Edward the whole way. Once the door closes, Edward lets out an audible sigh of relief.

"Told ya," I remind him.

"Nah, he's okay. Who could blame him for wanting to protect you from the big bad wolf? Maybe once he gets to know me better…?"

"Sure," I chuckle at his misplaced optimism. "So…what do you want to do? We could watch a movie, play cards…"

"I have a better idea," he says with a grin.

_I had a feeling you might._

"I think I saw a lime in the fridge earlier. Can you cut it into eight wedges? Oh, and grab the salt while you're there?"

Gotta admit, I wasn't expecting that. I was hoping for a massive make-out session, maybe exploring some of that newly discovered territory form last night, but limes and salt? Okay. I get to work in the kitchen, and when I return to the TV room, Edward's got a bottle of Jose Cuervo and two shot glasses on the coffee table.

"Where did you get that?" I panic, worried maybe Edward's raided the liquor cabinet.

"Emmett," he admits sheepishly. "He called it a post-season, pre-holiday present."

"My Dad will KILL you if he sees that!"

"He won't."

I've never seen Edward drunk before. I've never even seen him take a sip of alcohol. This could be interesting, I decide. I plop myself down on the floor in front of the table, placing the plate with the lime sections and the salt shaker next to the glasses. "How do we do this?"

He smiles broadly and cracks the seal on the bottle, pouring out two equal, and extremely generous, shots.

"A. Lick hand. B. Shake salt. C. Lick salt. D. Drink shot. E. Suck lime. Ready?"

I nod, lick my hand just as Edward does, and pour on the salt till he says to stop. "One, two, three, go!" Watching and following his lead, we both lick the salt from our fingers and tip back our shots, sucking in the lime quickly to remove the bitter aftertaste. The burn starts in my mouth and trails down my throat all the way to my stomach lining. He closes his eyes for a second, feeling the full effects of his first drink since August. Not that I've been totally sober, but since I started hanging around him more, I haven't felt the need to drink much either, so the alcohol hits me immediately. I remind myself that I'll get drunk faster now with my lower body weight.

Edward leans over and kisses me, and I taste lime, salt and tequila on his lips and tongue.

"One more," he coaxes, refilling our shot glasses. We repeat the process like pros, and the burning is magnified by the immediate repetition.

Edward stands and pulls me up to the couch with him, laying me out with my head resting against the arm. He flattens the length of his body on top of mine and resumes kissing me. I can feel the slight buzz of the tequila loosening those inhibitions I hold so dear. He's moaning into my mouth and saying the most wonderful things in between kisses. Like, "God, you taste fucking delicious," and "Your lips are so sweet," and "Bella."

Yeah, just "Bella".

I feel his knee between my thighs and his hips against mine. His chest is pressing against me creating the most delicious friction and I want more. I wrap my arms around his back and pull him to me. He answers my movement by deepening the kiss and flexing his hips into mine. Our breathing has picked up, and pretty soon, we're pulling ourselves apart, just so we can breathe.

"We should go up to your room," he suggests, "in case your Dad comes home."

Edward, in my bedroom. "Let's do one more shot first," I suggest boldly.

**^EPOV^**

I pack up the tequila and shot glasses while Bella handles the rest. We stumble and giggle our way up the stairs, as the tequila starts to kick in. It's been so long since I've had a drink, and I'm ready to let loose this weekend. Cautiously. With an armed sentry watching my every move.

She opens her door shyly and invites me in with a sweep of her hand from inside the doorway. I quickly tick off all those elements of her room that she wrote about, from the curtains to the mirror, to the otherwise Spartan surroundings. And then I see it. The Peter Gravely shrine. And Bella sees my eyes alight on the display before she can do anything to cover it up.

She rushes over and puts herself between me and Peter's faces on the wall. "Oh God, Edward. Please don't look at this!"

"Step aside, Swan. Let's see what you've got here." If not for the alcohol, this would've been another episode like the junk on the refrigerator, but she's loosened up a bit, so she lets me ogle. I pull her slightly behind me while I peruse the display, dirty sweatband and all.

"I think I might be a bit jealous. I haven't seen anything like this for me in your room at Holden," I mock pout.

"I'd like to think I've matured a bit since this," she explains.

"Do you think he'll mind watching me have my wicked way with you?"

"Well, considering he has no idea that I've worshipped him, I seriously doubt he'd care."

"Good," I say, walking her backwards till her legs bump the bed.

I tip her so she's lying on her back, waiting for me to cover her again with my body.

"Does it feel hot in here? Because I feel kind of hot," I say, grasping my shirt and sweater in one hand and peeling them both off over my head.

"Um…I'm okay," she says.

"You sure, Bella? Because you look pretty damn hot to me." I climb up onto her bed on my knees and stalk my way up her legs until I'm kneeling, bare-chested over her thighs. I fall forward onto my hands, trapping her head in between.

**~BPOV~**

Edward Cullen is on MY bed with me, and he has no shirt on, and he's got me trapped here underneath his rock hard body. I'm pretty sure I've died and gone to heaven, because in my wildest dreams, such a thing does not happen to Bella Swan.

He's poised to do a push-up right over my chest, and here come his amazing lips, closing in on mine. He traps my lips and he's telling them a whole story with his. Then his lips ask that question, 'May I please come in?' and my lips answer, 'Of course, what do you think, I'm crazy?' and I open up and I feel the tip of his tongue tapping against mine saying, 'Wanna play?' and mine says, 'Sure, how about Follow the Leader?' and his says, 'Okay, who's the leader?' and mine says, 'Who the fuck really cares?'

Pretty soon, my nose can't suck in enough air and I have to push on his shoulder- his BARE shoulder- and he lifts up for a second so I can breathe. And then I notice this is a pretty fine view of Edward's chest, and wouldn't it feel great if that chest rubbed against mine?

"Y'know what? It _is_ pretty hot in here," I answer his question from before he started the long conversation with my lips.

His eyes widen in surprise and then a huge smile breaks across his face. I pull the tails of my button down out of my jeans and start unbuttoning from the bottom up. Edward accommodates me nicely by sitting back on my thighs and running his fingers through his messy hair while he watches me prepare myself. I don't know if he realizes that he's licking his lips in preparation…for something. And I know that my face must look exactly as hungry as his, because his chest is positively beautiful, and it's so close, and I hurry my buttons, finally, mercifully, reaching the top two.

Fresh out of patience, Edward takes the sides of my shirt and opens them like French doors letting in the fresh spring breeze, tucking the fabric out of the way at my sides. I'm grateful for Rosalie's lingerie advice. I know the new Victoria's Secret demi-cup was a perfect choice, and it looks even better now that the shirt's off. Edward gives my chest a worshipful look and runs the back of his fingers absently over the top of my cups. "Gorgeous," he whispers under his breath and lowers his face into my cleavage.

I can no longer wait to feel his skin on mine, and I wrap my arms around his back and pull him against me. The instant his satiny skin touches mine, I let out an embarrassing moan.

_Why didn't anyone ever tell me how heavenly this feels_?

I feel his well-developed muscles just under the surface, and he rolls and moves over me, bringing me alive with each and every flex of sinew. His lips are back at my mouth, and he's groaning his approval and crushing me with the weight of his hips grinding into mine and I couldn't be happier. Breathing is seriously overrated if this is the alternative!

"Bells?"

The kitchen door swings shut_. Fuck_. Charlie.

"Fuck! Charlie!"

Edward jumps up and grabs his shirt and sweater, pulling them on together, opposite the way he removed them. I hasten to button myself, and Edward starts at the bottom and meets me in the middle. He bolts across to the other side of the room, and I answer, "In my room, Dad."

Dad appears in the doorway and Edward appears to be looking at my classic library at the other side of the room.

"Yeah, right," Dad smirks. "You," he says, pointing at Edward. "Downstairs."

"Yes, Sir." Edward gives me a covert grin behind Charlie's back before exiting my room.

"'Night, Bella," Dad says with a knowing, but surprisingly not accusatory, nod. I suppose I could give him the same, but I simply smile sweetly and wish him sweet dreams.

**^EPOV^**

"Yes. _Edward Cullen._ Coach Drum said he'd leave a guest pass for me and my friend Bella Swan."

"Bella Swan?" The kid behind the desk looks up suddenly at Bella, and a huge smile of recognition breaks across his features.

"Hey, Seth," she says, blushing as Seth pops up and tears around the counter to take Bella in a huge hug.

"Wow! I mean, just wow, Bella! Mom said you looked great but…" His sentence is finished by a whistle that would put any construction worker to shame.

This is to be expected, I remind myself. Bella's new body is going to be the talk of the town this vacation, and she deserves all the attention and positive reinforcement she'll get. And as Seth finally releases his grip and she walks back to my side, I find I'm not jealous so much as really, really proud of her.

"Edward, this is Seth Clearwater. You know, Sue's son? Charlie's…"

"Got it," I answer, sparing her the further explanation she's having trouble spitting out. I extend my hand immediately to Seth. "Nice to meet you, Seth."

"So you guys are friends from Holden?" Seth asks. I let Bella handle that question. Who I am to her is not exactly something we've defined at this point. The circumstances of my trip to her house are not exactly clear cut. Sure, we're getting closer, but if I'd had another good option for Thanksgiving, I probably wouldn't be here. At least, not yet.

Bella looks at me, a bit unsure of how to answer. "Yes, Edward lives down the hall from me."

It's okay, Bella. We don't have to tell everyone I had my face in your boobs last night.

"Hey, you're that hot shit golfer, aren't you? Coach Drum doesn't put just anybody on the visitor list."

"Yeah, that's me all right," I answer. Bella looks at me proudly.

"Here, guys," Seth says, hustling back behind the counter to retrieve towels and locker keys for us. "Have a good workout. Bella. I guess I'll see you both again on Thanksgiving. You're coming over, right?"

"Yep," Bella answers. "Great to see you, Seth."

"You too, and Bella…WOW!" She giggles as he shakes his head in amazement. "Nice to meet you, man," he says to me as I pass.

O)(O

"You know, I can see you watching me in the mirror," she catches me checking out the movements of her upper body. I guess my path from the locker room hasn't been stealth after all.

"I'm just checking your form since Riley's not here."

"You're too good to me," she says good-naturedly, finishing her last two reps. She eyes my shirt in the mirror and spins her head around. "That shirt is too cute," she says. "Dyslexics are teople poo?"

**~BPOV~**

It probably wouldn't be quite as funny in any color but brown. "What, do you guys have a private club or something?"

"Yep. If you're really good later, I'll teach you the secret handshake."

"Is it upside-down or backwards or something?"

He laughs and answers, "That reminds me of my other shirt. It has a big 'I love 96' on the front and on the back it says 'sexually dyslexic'."

"Nice." And now I'm thinking about 69. With Edward. In the middle of the sweaty BC gym.

"Bella Swan! Clearwater told us you were looking hot! Is that really you?" Tommy Brennan and Jimmy Norton appear in front of me, in all their beefy glory. Inseparable teammates at Patriot High, they now anchor the BC football team defensive line.

"It really is," I say, stepping off the machine. "And this is Edward Cullen. Tommy and Jimmy." Introductions are impossible. Why haven't I thought this through better? What exactly is Edward to me? Would he be hurt if I called him a friend? Dare I introduce him as my boyfriend? Shouldn't we have had major declarations before that? Or does face surfing in one's cleavage suffice?

The men shake hands and my old classmates stare at me again. "Jesus, Swan. Where's the rest of you?"

"Oh, she's waiting for me outside in the car." I mean, what the fuck? Is there an answer for that? I roll my eyes to Edward, and he snickers at my sarcasm and their lameness.

Tommy gives Jimmy a shove and says, "Cool it, asshole. What he meant to say was, 'You look fan-fucking-tastic, Bella.' Right, douchebag?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Bella. You look great. I just can't believe it. I mean you look like a different person."

_Translation: Old person wasn't worth looking at_. I smile and answer graciously, because really, these two oafs are probably doing the best they can, "I feel like one, too."

"Hey," Jimmy continues, "Gravely's having a party Friday night. You have to come. Oh, you can come, too, Ernie."

Peter Gravely is having a party. And I'm invited. But Edward-

"We'd love to come. Thanks," answers Edward smoothly. "Bella, you know where this guy lives?"

Well, duh. He knows I know damn well where he lives, though he may not guess that I've circled my car around Peter's neighborhood somewhere around 3000 times just hoping to get a glimpse of him from the street.

"I can look it up," I say slyly. Edward gives me a knowing smirk.

O)(O

"We don't really have to go to Peter's, Edward."

"Bella, you should go. We should go. Show this guy what he's missing."

**^EPOV^**

We're stronger than what Connor and Gil can throw at us, but this guy Peter is still a fantasy for Bella. It's been my experience that fan girl crushes grow and grow unchecked, unless they're treated with the perfect antidote- reality. If real life Peter Gravely is going to be a threat, I'd rather find out sooner rather than later. And if he's not, well let's get his face the fuck off Bella's wall.

"You're serious?"

"Sure. What else do we have to do? "

O)(O

Charlie claims that Sue's banished him from her house for the night so she can get all the food prepared for tomorrow night. We spend a quiet evening in with the Chief, playing Scrabble and watching TV.

"So Bella tells me you're something of a golf fan?" I venture to find common ground.

"I am. I hear you had yourself quite a season, Sport."

I flinch at the nickname, but go with the flow. "Yes, I had a great putting coach," I say, winking at Bella.

"Sorry?" Charlie chuckles. "Bella helped you with your putting?"

"Hey!" she protests her father's doubts. "I'm good at putting."

"Is that right?" he says, looking back and forth between the two of us suspiciously. Wondering, no doubt, what else I've been teaching his daughter.

"Well, first, I had to teach Bella how to putt. But she's got great hand-eye coordination, and she's not afraid to work hard to earn what she wants," I boast to her father.

"I'm not surprised. Those are the same qualities that make Bella an accomplished pianist and great student," her Dad boasts back.

"Well, I think we can all agree that I'm terrific!" jokes Bella. "Now could we please change the subject? This is embarrassing!"

I loop my arm around her shoulders and give her an affectionate peck on the top of her head. "We're just both so proud of you."

"Gawwwd!"

**~BPOV~**

It's Dad who finally digs me out, directing the conversation off me. "So, Edward, what do you think of Tiger?"

This is a trap. But I'm not worried.

"I'm a fan of his golf game, for sure. I mean, who wouldn't be impressed?"

Dad's sitting up straighter, ready to take him down. But then Edward surprises him. "He's certainly not my hero, though. And I resent what he's done to the game, and to the kids who thought he was a good guy."

The balloon in Dad's chest deflates, and at first he looks a little disappointed that he can't stay fired up and debate. But then, a smile comes over his face, and he tells Edward, "I couldn't agree with you more, Son."

"Not to mention his wife, and his children. I mean, how could you disrespect your family that way?"

Dad's nodding and encouraging him, and Edward's on a roll. "Marriage is a sacred bond. For life. I mean, 'til death do us part. You know?"

A sad look crosses Dad's face, and Edward realizes one beat too late what he's done. First, he looks at Dad, and then he looks over at my face to see how bad the damage is. I don't know what to say.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Dad's head snaps up at Edward, and he says, "Pee-shaw, Edward. You're just fine. I like a man who speaks his mind. A person knows where he stands with you."

Edward looks helplessly to me, and I give him an encouraging smile. He still looks miserable, though.

"Besides, Edward, what you said is absolutely true. You must have a fine example of a marriage at home if that's your world view."

"In fact, I do," he answers, looking a little bit relieved.

"Edward's parents are great, Dad. Esme and Carlisle are so cool."

"You're on a first-name basis with his parents?"

"Yeah. They've been up to Holden a couple times, and I've gotten to know them a bit," I say, not revealing the intense talk that Esme and I had.

"Well, that's nice. I'm gonna turn in now. Listen, kids…" he starts, but chickens out.

"Dad?"

"I remember how it is to be young. I don't want you to feel like you have to go sneaking around behind my back." His face is red but he's soldiering bravely on. "If you want to have some privacy up in your room, I guess that's okay."

Edward is biting back his grin, and I'm just plain astonished.

"You've got twenty minutes. Door ajar-"

"Ew, Dad. Do we really need to worry that you're watching?"

He shakes his head in defeat. "Fine, shut the door."

I smile a bit in victory. "BUT-" he interrupts my celebration, "two feet on the floor at all times."

"So, one of mine, and one of his?"

"Come on, Bella. You're killing me here."

I cross the room and give my understanding marshmallow of a Dad a huge hug. "Thanks, Dad."

He rises from his chair, and so does Edward. Dad goes over and shakes his head. "Good night, Son." What he doesn't say, but implies, is, '_Please take good care of my daughter.'_

"'Night, Sir." What he doesn't say, but implies, is, '_I promise I will.'_

**^EPOV^**

"Bella, you heard the man. He practically invited me to defile you."

"You can accomplish all that in twenty minutes? 'Cause I think I saw him set his stopwatch."

"I can if you stop talking and take off your shirt."

"After you!" she says.

My shirt is off three seconds later. "I showed you mine. Now show me yours."

Without the liquid bravery, she's shy again, and this is decidedly unromantic. "Sorry. C'mere," I invite her into my chest and wrap my arms around her. Then we're kissing and pressing and falling onto the bed, and when she takes off her shirt for me, it's because she really wants to. Not because I'm pressuring her into it like some horny kid who's after the prize at the bottom of the Cracker Jack box.

Bella's the prize in my Cracker Jack box.

O)(O

"So, Edward, do you know what you're majoring in yet?" Sue asks Edward over three different kinds of pie.

"Management, and then I'm planning to go into the PGA Management program."

"So, you're looking to become a professional golfer?" Seth asks.

"You're going to be like those guys on TV?" Seth's little sister Leah asks with stars in her eyes.

"No," Edward replies. "I'm looking to become a golf _professional_. I want to teach."

"Giving up on the Tour already?" Dad asks.

"If I were that good, I'd know it by now," I answer honestly. "I don't want to spend my life chasing something that's not going to happen, when I feel like there's something else within my grasp that I'm already good at."

"Sounds like you know your strengths and weaknesses," Sue comments.

"Intimately," I admit.

"What about you, Seth?" Bella asks. "Have you decided on a major yet?"

"I think I like sports training. Maybe physical therapy? I don't really know yet. You know all that time I spent with the football and basketball teams in high school? I really enjoyed that."

"That's cool. Edward and I have a trainer-"

"Together?" Charlie asks with alarm.

"No, Dad. Separately. But he helps us both. And he's a great guy."

"Well, whoever's working with you is certainly doing a great job," Seth says admiringly to Bella.

She blushes and says, "I'll help you with the dishes, Sue."

That's my cue. "I'm gonna go call my parents and wish them a Happy Thanksgiving."

**~BPOV~**

Sue rinses the final pie plate and sets it on the towel stretched between my hands. "Bella, I hope you won't think I'm being too nosy-"

"Buuuuut…" I lead her in a sing song voice.

"Are you and Edward using protection?"

The aluminum dish clatters to the floor, catching my toe in the process. I thank my lucky stars it wasn't the Pyrex casserole dish I'd just set down a moment earlier. "Sorry," I mumble picking it up and wiping it off with my towel. Sue waits patiently for me to return to the topic.

"We don't need protection," I whisper quickly through gritted teeth, hoping she'll move off the subject.

She looks at me skeptically, but I deflect. "Did Dad put you up to this?"

"No," she says immediately. But seconds later, she changes her tune. "Well, sort of. He told me he was going to have a heart-to-heart with Edward, and I volunteered to do it this way instead."

"Oh, thank God!"

"Your Dad loves you so much. He's just not used to this new phase."

"I realize I've made it pretty easy on him up to this point. I mean, I didn't have a date for 18 years, so we never even had to talk about curfew, let alone birth control!"

"Well, it seems to be an issue now. I mean, the way you two kids look at each other?"

"Sue, we're not…I swear." I'm turning the plate over and over in my hands, looking anywhere but at her.

She gently removes the plate and towel from my hands, then takes both of mine in hers. "Listen, honey, you know I love you like a daughter. And I have to believe if your Mother were here, she'd want you to know that sex in a loving, committed relationship is a beautiful experience. And you shouldn't deprive yourself. But you _should_protect yourself."

"And this is what Dad was going to tell Edward?"

She snorts. "Yes. Right before he promised to slice off his balls if he ever hurts you."

"Ichhh. I think we can skip that part. Thanks, Sue."

"Any time, Sweetheart. There are certainly different choices, but if you want to see a doctor, while you're home for Christmas, maybe? I can make that happen."

"Maybe," I answer, falling into her arms. "We'll see."

"Oh, honey. I think you got a good one, there. A real good guy."

"I think so, too, Sue."

**^EPOV^**

Sue and Bella walk out of the kitchen with their arms around each other. I can't read Bella's expression, for once.

"How are your parents?" Bella asks.

"They're actually pretty lonely. This is hard on them," I reflect. "It's their first year as empty nesters."

"Well, they have each other," Bella responds, as Charlie and Sue scrunch in together on the love seat.

"Do you mind if Edward and I head back?" she asks them.

"Go on, kids," Sue answers with a wink, and Charlie acquiesces right after.

O)(O

We're not in the car two minutes when I blurt, "So what was that about in the kitchen?"

She doesn't take her eyes off the road, but her jaw drops and she tries to cover quickly. "Oh, Sue and I were just having a little heart to heart."

I shift in my seat so I'm aimed right at Bella and I ask, "You were talking about me, weren't you?"

She acts annoyed, "Well, of course we were talking about you, Edward. Why do you think women never let men help in the kitchen? It's so we can talk about you the whole time!"

"That's not working," I inform her. "If you want to say it was private, just say it was private."

"It was private."

I turn my face to the window so she can't see me smile. They were totally talking about me.

O)(O

"You look great. Stop changing! Jeez, how many sweaters did you pack anyways?"

"A bunch. I mean, I have nothing here that fits me any more."

"Well, you're not going to get any better than that outfit you've got on right now. You look like sex on wheels."

She giggles at my expression. "Really, Edward?"

"I think I just channeled my mother there, for some odd reason." And I think I actually know why. I mean, what kind of a guy helps his girl dress to impress some other guy? A dumb shmuck. So maybe, I've just stepped out of being Edward, the guy who seems like he's Bella's boyfriend, at least it felt that way again last night when we had our twenty minutes together, into the role of her BFF or her mother figure.

I push back the voice that taunts me_, Or maybe you're just a giant pussy._

"You don't look like your mother," she says, giving me the once over. And there's the twice over.

"Let's go already," I plead, impatient for this odyssey to begin so we can put it behind us.

**~BPOV~**

Edward's hand drops away as the door is pulled open for us. "Bella!" I'm pulled into a sweaty hug by Tommy, and I narrowly escape the slosh of beer overflowing his cup as he moves. While still hugging me, he offers his hand to Edward.

"Eldin. Hey, come in, man."

When I finally squeeze out of his grasp, I check Edward's expression, but all I see is amusement.

"This way to the keg, folks," Tommy leads gallantly.

The room is packed with people I recognize from school, but never socialized with, the movers and shakers, the jocks and cheerleaders, the ones having all the fun. The music is loud and the air is heavy with the smell of beer. I flash back uncomfortably to my first frat party at Holden, but I push it out of my mind and head for the group congregating around the keg.

Jimmy seems to be in charge of the keg, and as we approach his face lights up, "Hey Swan. Can I pump for you?" He seems to find this incredibly amusing, and maybe with a few hundred beers in my system, I'd agree. I smile bravely and say, "Sure. Make it two please."

Edward's standing near but he's not staking any kind of claim on me. He's letting me figure this out for myself. Meanwhile, the skinny bitches from my past are checking out Edward, ferreting out the new meat in the room with the olfactory intelligence of a bloodhound. I know blondes don't do it for him, but I'm pretty shocked when our fair selection of brunettes also fails to get a notice from him. Not a single eyebrow lift. He's seemingly oblivious to their attention as well. Wow.

I hand him his beer and we have a little plastic clank and share a smile. I'm starting to think how nice it would be to get the hell out of here and go start our twenty minutes, because each night seems to get us closer and more comfortable and-

And then I feel him. Peter I-Would-Have-Died-For-You Gravely. He's not just easy to spot because he's six inches taller than everyone else here. He's the radio station I'd set my dial to for two solid years, and I'd know how to find that signal in a blizzard. He's huddled in the far corner with Jeannine DeMarco and they're making googly eyes at each other. I'm not sure either of them knows there's a party going on around them.

Next thing I know, Tommy's bending Peter's ear and pointing my way. Peter's head whips up and I look away as quickly as I can, but I'm pretty sure I'm busted.

"That him?" Edward asks, sounding amused. Okay, I'm double busted now.

"Mmm hmm." It doesn't seem fair to lie to him when he's being such a good sport about this. It takes all my energy to keep my eyes from flicking back to Peter. But it doesn't matter, because he's heading straight for me, Jeannine in tow.

Edward leans in and says, "He's cute, Bella. You have good taste."

I roll my eyes and try to stop my body from shaking and my stupid blush from giving me away.

"Bella? Is that really you?"

I turn to his approaching form and nod. "Hey, Peter. Hope it's okay that we came." It's not like I've ever been invited to one of your famous ragers before.

"I'm so glad you did. Brennan told me he and Norton bumped into you at the gym the other day. Jeez, you look great. Jeannine, doesn't Bella look great?"

Jeannine rips her attention off Peter's face long enough to give me the once over. "You look great, Bella," she deadpans. Her eyes land on Edward next, and she seems to find him a bit more interesting to look at than me. Can't blame you, Sweetheart. "And _who_ are _you_?"

"Edward Cullen. I'm a friend of Bella's from Holden." He's clearly leaving any further descriptions up to me tonight.

"Welcome, Edward. I'm Jeannine." Edward smiles in a friendly, non-encouraging way at her. Peter offers his hand. "Edward," he says simply.

Peter seems not to care that his girlfriend is fawning all over Edward. He's stuck on me.

"I'm sorry I keep staring. It's just…it's like you have the same face, but the rest of you is just so different."

"I'm still me," I say shyly, his attention starting to feel like the oppressive midday sun in Barbados. I'm about to burn to a crisp.

"More like new and improved," he says appreciatively, absently loosening his grip on Jeannine and letting her slide toward Edward.

"So, how did you do this? _Why_ did you do this?"

"It turns out diet and exercise really _do_ work," I go for humor, hoping he'll forget his second question. But he's waiting for my complete answer. "Somebody hurt me pretty badly, and it finally motivated me."

Peter glances at Edward and I quickly set him straight. "Oh God, no. Not Edward."

"That's good. I didn't want to have to kick his ass. He looks pretty solid."

Jeannine seems to think so, too.

"So, tell me, how's BC?"

"It's great. Well, you know, basketball season hasn't started yet, but the team has been practicing, the guys are great. I even like my classes, which is a total fucking shock to me. I mean, who knew?"

"And you and Jeannine are…?"

Peter shifts his eyes to his girlfriend, who is working Edward like a pro. Edward is stoic. She's just another smitten fan girl to him, and he's so not interested. He's just occupying her for me so I can get on with this business with Peter. So damn accommodating, that boy.

"Together. I guess. For now. Shit, that didn't come out very well, did it?"

I have to laugh at his blunder. "I don't know. It depends what you meant."

"I think what I meant was she goes to school at BU and I'm down the road, and it's familiar and comfortable. And Jeannine's a great girl."

For the first time ever, I feel sorry for Peter. Because while he's had fan girls and real live girlfriends, he's obviously never had what Edward and I have, or he never would've settled for so much less. And that's exactly the moment it hits me. I don't need to do this anymore.

I take a good, hard look at Edward. Even knowing nothing about this boy, I would be instantly attracted to him, as I was when I first met my mute giraffe in class. But Edward Cullen is so much more than a hot body. Correction, an _insanely_ hot body.

"Peter, do you have any idea the crush I had on you all through high school?" I admit, freed completely by the realization that I no longer need to hold onto my pride or my secrets. Or my crush.

"Yeah?" he says, smiling now.

"Yeah. And not just for the fact that you're amazing on the court. But you always seemed like a really nice guy. And now, I can see that you probably are."

"Well, thank you, Bella Swan. I wish I would've known you better in high school."

"Yeah, me too," I observe ruefully. "But I guess I wasn't ready to be seen then."

"Hmm. Why do I get the feeling I'm a beat too late?"

I can't help it. I've looked at Edward again, and he's looked back, and I'm lost.

"Peter, it was so great talking to you, after all this time. I truly hope you find someone who makes me feel the way he does."

"Nice to finally meet you, Bella. And good luck."

**^EPOV^**

Jeannine seems harmless, nothing I can't withstand while Bella closes out the deal with Peter. I have to admit, I'm surprising myself here. I'm a jealous bastard, and I know that about myself. Watching Bella in the library with Connor raised my hackles like nothing before that, and the thought of Gil Brophy's shirt wrapped around her body still makes me want to punch his lights out.

Yet here she stands, with her admitted obsession, and I can see from here that he's not a threat to us. Her initial response is physical attraction. Hell, the guy is good looking. Even I can appreciate that about him, in a totally hetero kind of way, that is. But she's not giddy or silly or flirty, not one bit like Jeannine is behaving toward me, in fact. And it's not just that Bella's not like that, it seems to me that Bella just doesn't _need_ that.

They both look at me at the same time, Peter and Bella, and I see it in her eyes. The Gravely shrine will be dismantled tonight. Relieved that I no longer have to stay back, I slide to her side and wrap my arm around her hips, hooking my thumb through her belt loop.

She leans into me in a way that can only be described as intimately and asks, "Ready to go, Edward?"

"Whenever you are. You're driving this bus, Babe."

She nods, saying everything she doesn't need to say out loud.

I can't say I notice one person on the way to the door, so focused are we on getting back to Bella's. Our steps pick up pace as we hit the front walk, and the crisp night air awakens all my senses. The smoky scent of working chimneys stretches from one end of the street to the other, and I suddenly want nothing more than to stretch out in front of a cozy fireplace with Bella.

I still can't get used to the idea of her chauffeuring me all around Boston in her truck. I reach for her door handle and she spins around, back to the door. She pulls the collar of my coat for a long overdue kiss, and the surprise element pulls me off balance. I catch myself with both palms flat against the cab of the truck on either side of her head

I'm not sure if Peter or I stoked this fire, but it's more than my pleasure to warm myself in her flames. Bella gets a little more aggressive with her kissing, nipping at my lips with her teeth. She loops her foot around behind my knees and pulls me against her. The animal in me responds immediately with a growl and a twist of my hips that lets her know exactly what she's doing to me. She answers with a loud moan that threatens to break down my resolve. I slide my right hand to her head and grab a handful of hair. She's making me crazy with her sounds and her crushing and her kissing.

And then, that little voice inside me sends a message to my pants. _Back off, you dick._

"Mmmm mmmmmmm," I moan into Bella's lips, while telling my little voice to shut the fuck up.

Her hands are pulling wildly through my hair, and I'm grinding my girl against the truck door. _Jesus, what am I doing? _

Finally getting a grip on myself, I push my hips back and off hers, figuring if I break that seal, other body parts will follow. Our lips are the hardest to separate, having become very close friends over the last couple weeks. Nevertheless, I divide them successfully and push off the truck. Bella's eyes are wild and out of control.

"I think I may have put a dent in your truck just now," I confess.

Bella's giggle lifts the mood immediately, and she's doubled over with laughter before long. "God, Edward, you've made me into such a slut!"

"Oh, this is my fault?" I counter, totally amused at her accusation. "Didn't have anything to do with one Peter Gravely?"

"Peter who?" she smiles. "Get in the truck, Edward."

"I'm not sure I feel safe with you," I tease, tucking her inside the driver's seat and heading around to my side.

"You'll be all right. Just keep your seat belt on," she advises, regarding my lap with curiosity. _Interesting_. If I could see her better in the darkened cab, I'd know for sure whether she's blushing right now, but her demeanor indicates that she is.

She pulls carefully into the street, watching the road admirably, but looking as if she's got a burning question. "Bella? What's going on in that head of yours?"

"I was just wondering…"

"Yeah?" I twist in my seat, pulling up my left knee and turning as much as my belt allows.

Her eyes stay stock still, forward on the road ahead, but her hand gestures briefly toward my lap. "Does that bother you?"

Okay, the penis questions. Makes total sense she's asking me. She doesn't have another close guy friend or a brother.

"You mean, getting hard?" Let's just make sure we're having the same conversation.

Still avoiding me, "Yeah."

"No, Bella. He kind of lives for it, actually."

She peeks over quickly, taking her lower lip between her teeth and considering my answer. Turning her attention back to the street, she asks bravely, "So, it doesn't hurt then, when we don't…y'know…finish?"

"No. It doesn't hurt."

"So…does it just go away on its own?"

"Sometimes. If I leave him alone, and get away from _stimuli_. Like you."

She tosses me a smile.

"What if you don't?"

I shrug, even though she can't see me. "I take care of it."

She looks a little alarmed. "When we're together?"

"No, Sweetheart, you'd know it if you were in the vicinity."

"Oh."

**~BPOV~**

_Please don't ask me. Please don't ask me. _

"So," he asks me, "you've never…?"

I'm so grateful I have an excuse to avoid his eyes. "No." I knew he'd ask me.

He straightens in his seat and turns his head out the passenger window. We pull into my driveway, and I kill the ignition.

"What?" I ask. _Am I a freak now? _I look sideways at the back of Edward's head, and I see the crinkles of the smile at the back of his cheeks.

He finally turns his head to me and I see the smile he's been hiding. "It's just that we're going to have so much fun together, Bella."

O)(O

There are so many choices for our date night, but I pick the romance of the North End, the Little Italy section of Boston. Dad drops us off at the Riverside T station, so we don't have to deal with parking, and through the window, he hands me money for a taxi ride home. "Enjoy your date, kids. Bella, don't forget to take Edward to Mike's Pastry after dinner. And bring us back a couple of cannolis, would you?"

"Sure, Dad. Have fun with Sue tonight," I wink. I know it's cramped their style to have us and Sue's kids around this weekend.

I'm wearing one of my favorite new dresses, a clingy wrap-around that hugs me in all the right places. Edward's wearing a navyblue wool blazer with a thin, heather grey crew neck sweater and dark grey slacks. In short, Dress-up Edward looks hotter than ever. We're both wearing long coats so that we can enjoy walking around the neighborhood without freezing.

Riverside's the end of the green line, so we wait while the train slides into the station and makes its lengthy sweep around the yard to turn around. The doors open, and we're the first ones in. Even still, I grab the sturdy aluminum pole and stand so as not to wrinkle myself. Rose would be proud. Edward stands behind me, wrapping his torso and arms around me and grasping the pole in front of me.

The train lurches forward, and I'm grateful for my tight grip on the pole in front of me. Edward jostles merrily behind me, bouncing along with the ride.

I suddenly appreciate the expression, "Getting there is half the fun," because this date is all about the journey. The journey on the well-lit subway train, simultaneously being protected and molested by my…hell, I say it to myself, my boyfriend.

Our discussion from last night comes to mind, or should I say, it rears its ugly head? It seems there's a pole in front of me, and another behind me. No contest, I lean back and enjoy the ride.

**^EPOV^**

What an excellent idea, riding the subway to dinner. I close my eyes and bury my nose in Bella's neck. Though I long to weave my hands through Bella's coat and dress, I behave myself and hold steadily to the pole in front of her. Well, I behave most of myself. I let the friction of Bella's willing backside and the uneven rails work their magic. By the time we reach the North Station stop, my own personal compass is pointing to magnetic North.

She turns her head back to mine and says, "We get off here."

_Almost_, I chuckle to myself. I slip my hand inside my coat and realign myself in the shuffle to exit the car. Taking her hand, I allow her to wind us back and forth among the colorful streets of the Italian district- Prince Street, Hanover Street, Salem Street. The familiar sounds of restaurants and shops are mingled with Italian words shouted from the residences above. There's a vibrant life to the neighborhood. This isn't some tourist attraction; it's real life.

"I've always loved coming down here and just immersing myself in the culture."

"It's a great choice, Bella. So, where did you want to eat?"

"I don't have a clue. We always just come down and walk around and usually one of the owners kind of drags us inside. 'Course, they all love the Chief. Half of these places don't even have a menu. You just sit down and they start bringing you food! I've never once had a bad meal."

"Come on, then. I saw a place down this alley that looked romantic."

I lead her to a place called Luciano's and we take a look at the menu posted in the window. It takes me two seconds to see that I'll find what I like inside. "Good?"

"Perfect."

O)(O

We're dressed up and they're Italian, so they don't card us when I order a bottle of Chianti. Bella seems a bit shy about ordering food, and I realize we haven't exactly eaten out in a restaurant together before. Unless you count the Green Machine, which I definitely don't.

"Bella, you should order whatever you want. I'm loaded, in case you didn't know."

"Oh, you are, huh?" she smirks.

Her smile is like a lie detector test for me. "Well, my parents are loaded. And I have a very gracious allowance."

"And they're okay with you blowing it on dates?"

"As long as it's you," I tell her, reminding her how much my parents love her.

She lowers her eyes but I can still see the glow of her blush in the candlelight. I reach across and cover her hand on the table with mine. "Thanks for inviting me home with you, Bella."

She looks up and sips her wine. "I'm so glad you came. It's so great having you in this part of my life. It makes you seem…real."

I force apart her fingers with mine and take possession of every single one. "So, what was I at school? A life-sized blow-up doll?"

She quirks her eyebrows and is hopefully imagining all kinds of sexual imagery right now.

The waiter arrives and Bella places her order. "I'll have the arugula salad and the grilled salmon please."

"What, no pasta?" I protest.

"I think I already gained five pounds on this trip, Edward," she says somewhat dejectedly.

"Okay, fine. You can share mine. I'll start with the Caprese Salad, then I'll take the Penne a la Vodka, and the Veal Milanese as my entrée."

"Very good, Sir," replies our waiter, already calculating his tip.

Bella giggles at my lengthy order. As soon as the waiter leaves, she leans in and says, "Riley is totally gonna kick your ass when we get back."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that."

"Oh?"

"Well, golf season is over now, and I don't have to work out with the team anymore."

A look of disappointment crosses like a shadow over her face. "Wait, you're not going to work out anymore? What about the eight pack?"

I practically spew my wine across the room at her pout. "Don't worry, Bella. The eight-pack isn't going anywhere. It's just that I thought, maybe we could do a workout together from now on."

She looks totally confused. Maybe it's the wine, so I break it down for her. "You. Me. Big rubber balls. Riley. Your four plus my eight makes a twelve pack!"

She looks a little terrified of the concept. "What's wrong, Bella. You wanna be alone with Riley?"

"Well, no, but it might be…a little weird?"

"Oh, I get it," a grin spreading across my face without my permission. "You're worried that things are going to get too heated and uncomfortable in the room, aren't you?"

"Honestly, Edward? Yes." Her face is beet red, aided by the warmth and the wine. And the dirty thoughts running through her head.

O)(O

After dinner, we stroll over to Mike's Pastry Shop, a Boston institution, I learn. The line snakes in front of the bakery case and around the café tables toward the storefront. The first thing I notice as we slide inside the door are the spools of blue and white striped string that hang from the ceiling at about four-foot intervals above the heads of the line of employees.

"What are those for?" I ask, rubbing Bella's hands between mine to warm them.

"Oh, watch." Before long, one of the employees reaches above and grabs the end of the spool, pulling the string in a horizontal line across her work space. On top of that, she places the telltale white box with the blue Mike's logo. Skillfully, she maneuvers both box and string until a bow is securely tied. With a snip of the scissors at her side, her preparation is complete. Bella is watching me observe the scene, and somehow feels inspired to kiss me.

**~BPOV~**

I never noticed before the romance of the spools of string hanging like patient soldiers from the rafters of Mike's. Suddenly, with Edward, every single detail of my old surroundings feels more vivid and important and wonderful. I've been a bit lazy about showing him my home town, using the cold weather and family obligations as my convenient excuses. But watching the childlike expression on his face as he sees this scene for the first time, I want to show him everything.

I'm overcome by the urge to kiss him, even though I've always been judgy about other couples doing just this exact thing before (_Ichhh, can't they wait till they get home_?). I'd love for him to wrap me up inside his overcoat but I settle for a mildly chaste kiss on the lips.

Soon it's our turn and we're selecting our cannoli fillings. Edward supervises with delight as they pipe his ricotta filling and chocolate chips into the shell. I decline but order Charlie the two he requested. Our server performs the necessary wrapping and tying, and Edward doesn't contain his smile at the final snip of the scissors. I insist on paying, and we hail a taxi outside.

Edward lets go of my hand only long enough to situate me in the cab, and then grabs it again on the seat between us. I've got the other hand looped through the bow safeguarding dessert.

"I'm going to bring you into the city tomorrow before we have to leave. Have you ever ridden on the Swan Boats?"

"What? They named a ride after you?" he asks, proud of his little word play.

"Oh, there's one I've never heard before," I answer, rolling my eyes.

"No, we were just around the BC campus when I came with the team," he replies to my question, and his face takes on a worried look. Yep, I remember Britney from Boston. But this is _my_ town, and Edward is _my_ guy.

"Well, I've got lots to show you then," I say with a simple smile.

He smiles back with relief, and says, "That makes us even, then. I've got lots to show you, too." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I reward his teasing with another kiss.

When we break apart, I catch the eyeballs of the driver in the rear view mirror. Leaning over to whisper in Edward's ear, I tell him, "I think we're being watched."

Edward catches the driver's eye and gives him a friendly wink. Busted, Ahmed shakes his head and focuses on the Mass Pike.

O)(O

"How was dinner, guys?" Sue asks, as Dad tears open the ribbon greedily.

"Delicious," answers Edward. "But I can't wait to try this cannoli."

The three of them huddle around the box at the kitchen table, and once it's opened, each takes a pastry. Dad and Sue take their first bites, and predictably, their eyes roll back in their heads and loud moaning ensues. Edward chuckles and says, "Do you two need to be alone?"

Dad gives him a bit of an evil eye, but Sue's throaty laughter dissolves Charlie's annoyance quickly into a loud chuckle.

Edward aims his cannoli at me and says, "You first, Bella."

I shake my head no, and he says, "How about we try it at the same time then?"

I roll my eyes but open my mouth once he positions himself at the other side. It has been probably six months since I've had this singular pleasure, and I can't help but respond the same way everyone else has. Edward laughs around his own mouthful, swiping at his lip to capture all the filling. A slow smile creeps across his face. "Mmmm. That. Is. _Really_...Good," he mumbles appreciatively. "Now I see why the line was out the door."

Witnessing Edward's unbridled joy in his cannoli makes me extremely happy inside. He takes several more bites and finally, has only one morsel remaining. "You eat it, Bella."

"Mmm mmm," I say, my mouth closed in a firm line.

"Fine." He pushes the tip into his mouth and pretends to chew. Seconds later, he's kissing me, transferring the cheesy filling to my tongue.

"Mmmm!" I protest. But then, he's wrapping his tongue around mine, and _what am I fighting about?_

Dad clears his throat, and we break apart. "What time did you kids want to head back up tomorrow?"

Never. Can't we stay here?

"I want to take Edward to the Public Garden tomorrow. Can we head back around 2?"

"Sure. Why don't you take the T in, and I'll pick you up with your luggage in my car and we'll head straight up 93?"

"It's going to be so crowded on the roads…" Edward suggests.

"Yes, Edward. We'll be riding with the lights on tomorrow."

Edward smiles again like the kid in the pastry shop.

**^EPOV^**

"This always looks like so much fun from the bridge," Bella remarks.

"It _is_ fun."

"It's freezing and slow and we waited two hours in line-"

"And we're sitting here together, floating peacefully on one of your ancestors."

"Very funny."

"Seriously, though, I think you have her eyes."

She nudges me in the ribs, and I protest mildly.

"Edward, I just want to stay here with you."

"You're hilarious! You've been complaining about this boat for the last fifteen minutes!"

"Not on the stupid boat. I'm talking about here, at home, in Boston."

I rope my arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, that would be nice."

She sighs into my side.

"But, Bella, think how nice it's going to be to get back to school. No supervision. No time limit on our togetherness. No feet on the floor."

She looks up at me and smiles shyly. "Yeah, I guess that works, too."

O)(O

"Bye, Dad. Thanks for the ride."

"It was great having you home, Bells. You be good, and work hard. We'll see you in a few weeks."

Bella releases her grip first, and Charlie follows reluctantly, turning his attention toward me. Excellent.

He holds out his hand and I grasp firmly. "Edward."

"Chief."

It's a standoff. Finally, he tugs on my hand and I fall into his chest. He puts his other arm around me briefly but with meaning. I catch Bella's raised eyebrows and surprised smile over Charlie's left shoulder.

"Take care of my little girl." He looks into my eyes as if he's seeing every less than honorable intention I might have.

"I will absolutely do that, Sir."

He softens into a broad smile and says, "I know you will." Pulling back his hand and climbing back into the cruiser, he's off.

I turn to my girl, and she's looking a bit melancholy. I remind her of our newfound freedom. "Your place or mine?"

O)(O

As it turns out, my place was the better option. Jasper has a late flight back from Miami, and we've got hours before his return. Bella and I throw off our coats and fall onto my bed, making a big show of kicking off our shoes and putting all four feet up on the mattress. Our legs and lips are tangled before the door even clicks shut behind us.

"God, I've missed you," I tell her.

She giggles into my lips. "I was with you the whole time."

"Not exactly. I was alone on that pull-out couch in the basement all night. All alone. All night."

"Awww. Poor baby," she soothes.

"Without these," I say, running my palms along her breasts.

"Well I had to suffer without these," she answers, brushing my abs.

"Whaddya say we stop depriving ourselves?" I suggest.

"Mmm, sounds good to me."

We slip off our shirts. "Your skin is so soft. You feel so good. Missed these." She giggles again.

"Has anyone ever told you, you talk too much?"

A deep chuckle escapes me, and I capture her lips. I can do the silent treatment. It doesn't take long before my pants are feeling uncomfortably tight, and it's not from the pasta and cannoli, or even the stuffing and pecan pie. Well, maybe a little. But mostly, because I'm excited and happy and there are no loaded weapons anywhere near my penis.

I roll myself on top of Bella, holding myself up by my elbows, but still enjoying the delicious friction of our bodies rubbing together. I press my hips experimentally against hers. Bella's eyes widen at her discovery and she moans, lifting her midsection to mine.

I'm still kissing her, but I'm watching her eyes, and she's watching mine. I thrust once again, and her breathing picks up. If I had any question about whether she's okay with this, it's answered when her hand slides into my back pocket and holds me against her. I start a rhythmic rocking, and I'm kissing her gently and monitoring her response. She splits her legs apart and wraps them both around my right leg, looping her toes behind my ankle. We are 100% engaged in a full-on dry humping session.

I'm quite sure of what my body's response will be to this activity, but I'd hate to be the only one exploding and leave Bella high and dry, so to speak. This doesn't seem like a great first orgasm for her, if she can even have one like this. I tip myself to her left side, keeping my leg between hers and continuing my steady rubbing. I unbutton the top button of her jeans. She pulls away from my lips with a gasp.

"It's okay. Trust me?" It's more of a plea than a question. She nods minutely, but it's enough. I peel down the zipper, one tooth at a time. Her eyes are wide and scared and her body is tense. I try soothing her with soft kisses, but she startles again when my fingers begin their descent into her jeans. I make it abundantly clear that I'm not going to invade the panties but stay on top. She relaxes just a bit, and I walk my fingertips down underneath the line of her zipper.

Her hips buck at the tickly intrusion, and I use my leg between hers to anchor her in place. My fingers continue downward on their search and destroy mission. If all goes well, Bella will be completely annihilated in a few minutes. I pick up the pace of my hip gyrations so we can reach the peak together. It's certainly been a long time since I've come in my pants, on purpose no less, but I'm pretty sure it's less scary for her this way. One step at a time. And who cares if I mess myself? Nothing a little Tide can't fix.

Bella stops kissing me as her breathing picks up. She's starting to get close now, and her head is thrashing back and forth. She's digging the fingers of her one hand into my ass right through my pocket, and the other hand is holding onto a fistful of hair like her life depends on it. I draw a circle around Ground Zero and she lets out a breathy groan that sends an ache straight to my dick. I pull back my hand just to slow her down a bit while I catch up. She protests adorably by popping her hips up to meet my hand.

"I am gonna make you feel so good, Bella."

She whimpers in response. I feel the tension building within, and I stroke myself against her leg a few more times before dipping my fingers back down. When I'm ready to burst, I brush my knuckles softly against her panties and Bella's legs clench hard around mine. She wails out a breathy tune, which rises and grows louder, and my own orgasm takes me over, but I concentrate on experiencing hers because it's her first and I don't ever want either of us to forget this.

**~BPOV~**

Edward's touched me right where I needed it, as if he is reading my pussy's mind. He's teasing and tickling and it feels so, so, so good. And he's watching me with those beautiful eyes and he's so excited, too, but this feels like it's all about me. I feel him rubbing against my leg, like we've done a few times before, like he did in the subway. But this time feels different. Like he's gonna _finish_.

I'm praying that he'll touch me again, _just once more_, I beg silently. I don't really even know what I'm wishing for, but all my prayers are answered when I feel his fingers making their way back inside my jeans. Please, please, please, just touch me. And his hand flips over and his knuckles tap me _right there_. I've never felt anything even close to this before. I'm flying, soaring, floating, spinning. I'm doing a triple backwards flip off the high dive and I'm never going to hit the water. It's dizzying and electrifying and the sweetest taste of heaven.

I don't even realize how tightly clenched my eyes are until I start becoming aware of my body again. I open my eyes to the most wondrous vision of Edward, blissed out and grinning like he's just shared the world's biggest secret with me.

I see my hand disappearing into his hair and realize I've been yanking mercilessly at his roots this whole time. I quickly release him, apologizing, "Oh God, I'm so sorry, Edward."

He chuckles and places a kiss on my breast. Unghhh. "Next time, remind me to borrow Emmett's helmet."

I give his shoulder an embarrassed thunk. "So…did you…?"

He pops up onto his right elbow, propping his head up with his hand. "Mmm hmmm." With his other hand, he draws lazy circles over my bra. "Did you?" he smiles.

"Pshhhhhhh. No. Good try, though," I roll my eyes.

He laughs lightly but then gets all serious on me. "Bella, I need to ask you something."

"Okay," I answer, and I know exactly what's coming. He wants to know when we're taking the next step. And I'm terrified, even though I know I don't need to be-

"Is it okay if I consider you my girlfriend?"

-and Sue totally gave us the green light as long as-, "Wait, what?"

"We _are_ exclusive, right?"

It's not exactly fair that he's asking me to think right now, but this question isn't any kind of challenge. "Sure. I guess that would be okay," I play it cool.

"Perfect."

Just what I was thinking.

O)(O

Edward insists on walking me and my suitcase down the hall and settling me in. Rose and Emmett are just saying their goodbyes- actually kissing their goodbyes- when I push open the door.

"Oh hey, Bella. Little Cullen."

Emmett chuckles at Rose's term of endearment for his little brother, but Edward looks a little chagrined. "She doesn't mean anything by it, Ed. Heck, she doesn't even _know_ how much bigger I am."

Edward gives him a glare.

"Did you guys have a nice Thanksgiving?" I interrupt, before the brothers come to blows.

"We did. Emmett was a model boyfriend."

Edward doesn't fail to show his surprise. "'Zat right?"

"I had Gordon and Abilene eating out of the palm of my hand by Sunday brunch. How about you, Eddie? How'd you do with the Chief?"

"I believe we've come to an understanding of sorts," he grins at me.

"Apparently, my father believes that no harm can come to his daughter in less than twenty minutes alone with Edward."

Emmett bursts out laughing. "He may just be giving Eddie a whole lot of credit he doesn't deserve right there."

Rosalie finally takes command and swats Emmett on his meaty arm. "Okay, okay. Enough with the sibling rivalry already."

"All right, Rosie. Listen, I've gotta run. See you tomorrow."

I turn my back to the lovebirds and their sloppy goodbye. "So, Edward, you gonna be okay down the hall? All alone? All night?"

"Don't worry, Bella. Jas will be back soon. He'll take care of me if I get lonely."

"Hmmm. I might be a little jealous."

I get a lovely good night/goodbye kiss from Edward and he follows Emmett out, the two of them jostling and teasing each other all the way down the hall.

Rose flops onto her bed, face up, with a huge sigh, and I mirror her actions across the room. "That good, eh Rose?"

"He said the Big L, Bella."

I turn my head and smile at my content roommate. "How did it happen?"

She giggles briefly and then shares, "We were going around the dinner table on Thanksgiving, everyone saying what they were grateful for. And Emmett just lets loose with, 'I'm grateful for Rosie, the love of my life.' And I turned to him and his face was all lit up and I kissed him, and he said, 'I love you, Babe!' Right there in front of the Thanksgiving turkey and three generations of Hales!"

"That's sweet, Rose. And did you return the favor?"

"Not right away. Not in front of my whole family. But yeah…" she says dreamily, no doubt remembering a tender moment that she doesn't seem to want to share.

Finally, she turns to me and says, "How was your weekend with Edward? Was it weird having him at your house?"

"Yeah. At first. Like my house wasn't big enough to hold him. Like he didn't belong there, in my past."

Rosalie tips up on her elbow to face me. "But…?"

"But…after a couple of days, I realized that Edward wasn't my past; he's my present. And hopefully, my future. And then everything made sense."

"Wow."

"Yeah. And speaking of wow, I just had my first orgasm!"

Rosalie smiles and very calmly repeats, "Wow."


	14. Nursery Rhyme

**11/28/2011**

**^EPOV^**

"Breakfast?" I ask hopefully, when she opens the door. I realize she's on a food plan and I'm unaware of her normal breakfast choices, but I figure a yogurt, granola and berry parfait must have something to offer.

"Thanks. That was sweet. Let me just grab my stuff."

"So what _do_ you eat for breakfast?"

"Normally, about one-third of this," she says, holding up the cup. "But today, I really need to get back on track."

"Me, too," I grin around my spoon. "Last weekend was an eating orgy. I feel totally disgusting."

"So, are we going to go see Riley together tonight? I still have my 4:00 slot."

"Yeah, we should give it a try."

We toss our remainders in the trash barrel just outside Williams Hall, and I grab her hand. She smiles and we push through the doors together, holding hands, for the first time. Professor Banner lifts his head when he sees us and he smiles in greeting, not at all surprised that we're locked together. "Good weekend, you two?"

"Yes. You?" I ask.

"The usual. Too much turkey. The Cowboys lost. Aunt Ida got drunk and fell off her chair at the dinner table. All kinds of excitement."

"Wish I could've been a fly on the wall!" Bella teases.

O)(O

"So who was thankful there was no writing assignment last week?" Every hand in the room goes up, along with light laughter. "Well, we're back on track now, no fooling around this week."

The usual moans and groans. "Actually, we are going to fool around a _little_. This week's assignment is to choose the first line from any nursery rhyme and make it into a story. 900-1000 words please. This is a fiction assignment. Tell me the back story. If you want to go a little fantasy or sci-fi, that's okay, too, but I want to see a good story. All right, you're outta here!"

"There goes all my free time this week," I moan in Bella's vicinity.

"Hey, it won't be bad. We can work on it together, somewhere fun. I guess the driving range is no longer an option."

"Nope, closed for the season," I lament.

"Well, what's your off-season happy place?"

"I don't have an off-season. I'm from California, remember?"

"Welcome to New England," she offers. "Hmmm, we could go to the Loud Room-"

"Like a library would be my happy place? Get real, girlfriend!"

She chuckles. "What about taking the bus into Stockton, getting away from campus for a night, finding a romantic restaurant…"

"And talking about schoolwork? What a great way to ruin a date." I am pouty and unpleasant and I hate myself right now, but I can't seem to quite snap out of it.

"Why don't you think of it not as a bad date, but as a really fun way to do your homework?"

"Are you using psychology on me, Bella?"

"Maybe…"

"It's working. How about tomorrow, after your last class? We can catch the 3:15 shuttle."

**~BPOV~**

"Okay, you two, I'm willing to go along with this, under a couple of conditions," Riley says. "First of all, if I feel like you're not concentrating or being careful, we're done. No tight tank shirts or up-your-crack shorts. And that applies to you, too, Bella." Riley smiles at his own little joke. "And no PDA. Deal?"

"Deal," we say at once, then bust up with laughter.

Riley rolls his eyes and says, "Up on your balls, guys."

We hop on obligingly, determined to give this a fair try. Neither of us wants to backslide in the progress we've made with our bodies this fall.

"Okay, you can stretch each other's abs, just line up the balls and take turns leaning back. That's it, Bella, squeeze here," he says, indicating my obliques in his usual manner, with his palm on the side of my stomach.

Edward immediately lets out a low growl.

Riley holds his hands up and says, "If I can't check her muscles, the deal is off. Non-negotiable. Edward, you know it's not sexual."

I watch my possessive boyfriend ponder the situation for a few seconds before giving in. "Fine, Rile, but don't enjoy it."

Riley rolls his eyes in exasperation and says, "I'll do my best."

"That goes for you too, Bella," Edward says with an air of threat in his voice.

"Hey, you don't see me getting all jealous when he touches _you_, Edward," I argue.

"Oh, you didn't tell her about us?" Riley pouts.

"Maybe this was the worst idea I've ever had," Edward says.

"No, sweetie, that would be when you decided I was repelled by your touch."

Riley's eyebrows pop up under his hairline.

"Hey, do you mind keeping our dirty laundry inside the basket?" Edward chides.

"Oh. My. God," Riley injects. "Maybe I should just rent you two the space for an hour. Oh, no, ick, forget I mentioned that.

The three of us dissolve into helpless laughter.

"Can we get to work now, Eight pack?"

"Sure," Edward answers, with a sexy wink my direction.

As Riley works Edward's abs, and I help a little bit (but mostly just ogle), I marvel again at my amazingly good fortune that this sexy creature would be interested in the likes of me.

Soon it's my turn again. "Come on, Bella, let's show Edward your chin-ups."

Edward stands in front of me, arms crossed over his chest, happy smile on his face. "Was that plural, B?"

"Yessss," I hiss, pulling myself up for the first, rising to the challenge in his eyes. I'm up again in record time, and Riley counts it off behind me. I manage two more, and I've reached my previous record. My arms feel like mush.

Edward teases, "Is that all you got, Swan?" and he steps closer to me. I can see from this close that his eyes have gone from friendly and challenging to dead sexy. I practically brush my legs up his torso as I pull myself up to the bar once again. Riley starts clapping behind me.

"Well, well, well. Looks like you just needed the right kind of motivation."

Indeed.

**^EPOV^**

"Damn that was sexy, Bella."

I don't care that we're sweaty, and I hope she doesn't care that I smell fairly awful. I am revved up from our joint workout, and I want my gym girl. Like now.

She giggles as I move up her body, greedily touching and teasing whatever looks good to me. And it all looks good. "So, Edward, is this how you always feel after your workout?"

"No, Bella. This is how I always feel after watching _you_ work out."

"How about taking off your shirt so I can check out your new growth."

"You sure you want to subject yourself to that?" I laugh warily, sure she'll cringe when she takes a good whiff.

"Yeah, pretty sure."

"Damn, Swan, you are one kinky girl."

"It's all your fault," she answers. "You're turning me into a slut."

I laugh at the idea of Bella Swan, the slut. I am so happy to take things slowly with Bella, and the truth is, I'm appreciating everything so much more this way, one step at a time. I'd never admit it to another guy, least of all, Jasper, but I'm not feeling the least bit deprived.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I challenge, sitting up with my knees on either side of her legs and pulling off my stinky t-shirt. She wriggles out of her sports bra against the bed, and her tits pop out of their lycra prison, leaving only her tight little spandex shorts. She's now the closest to naked I've ever had her. There's a fine layer of sheen that is going to feel fantastic when I rub my own chest along hers. This is gonna be sweaty and dirty and probably too quick.

"God, Bella," I moan weakly, fully understanding that I'm powerless in the presence of her mostly bare body. Crashing down on her indelicately, I crush our bodies together, and we slide and rub while I kiss the fuck out of her.

Her nails scratch across my sweaty back, and I know she's marking my warm skin with deep stripes but I could not care less. Her hips press up against mine. Seems Bella the slut is taking charge now. Her moans are drowning out mine, and I'm not worried about freaking her out this time, so I just let myself go, and the friction of my body against hers feels so fucking incredible, even through our layers of performance gear. Our tongues are catching on to the rhythm of our lower halves, and suddenly, every bodily function is attuned to the motion and the inexorable journey of our corresponding parts.

Bella breaks off my kiss and pants uncontrollably, clutching my shoulders and mashing her pelvis against mine. Not that I'm putting up any kind of fight. I push back with the frenzied beat of a runaway train picking up speed and power. My abandoned lips find her neck, and I lick along her sweaty skin, tasting the flavor of her workout and her arousal.

"OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!" she chants, her voice lifting higher and higher until it's nothing more than an airy squeak. She pulls me against her tighter than I thought possible, and though I can't exactly feel the spasm of her body through her lycra, the rest of her puddles into a quivering mess of rippling pleasure underneath me. It's all too much for my horny collegiate half-naked body, and I'm right behind her with my own orgasm, my hand seeking out a breast at the last second before detonation.

I play mindlessly with her nipple as I come down from my head rush. I don't feel like I'll ever be able to move again. Suddenly, the bed begins shaking, as does the nipple between my fingers, and I realize Bella is laughing her ass off. My ego kicks in and I push myself up to evaluate the situation.

"What's that for?" I ask curiously.

"Wow," she answers, as if that says it all.

"Oh. Okay," I respond, settling once again on her chest. A small, enormously satisfied smile snakes across my face.

**~BPOV~**

"You're recording our date?"

"Not exactly. Don't be so nervous, Nixon."

"Very funny, Bella. What if I say something really stupid? It'll be recorded for all posterity."

I chuckle but I'm not backing down. Good story ideas will be shared, and I don't want anything getting lost in the shuffle. "Trust me, this is better than having to bring notebooks and pens."

He rolls his eyes, then pulls me in for a kiss. "Record that," he challenges.

"Come on, Edward. Have you even thought about which nursery rhyme you want to write?"

"I like Jack Sprat."

This suggestion bothers me. "It doesn't really paint the wife in a very nice light, does it?"

"I guess not," he shrugs. "How about Jack and Jill went up the hill?"

"And…?"

"Well, what did they need with the water anyways? And why did they both have to do it? Maybe they're conjoined twins."

"That's biologically impossible, Edward."

"Then, maybe they're brother and sister, then, and they were fighting, so their Mom sent them up the hill to get water as a punishment."

"What if they're friends? Or what if they've always been friends, but as they're drawing the pail of water from the well, Jill starts to trip and Jack catches her and they fall madly in love?"

"Oh my God. You are such a romantic," he teases.

"Fine. Let her fall in and break her neck. See if I care," I say petulantly.

He tips my chin around and gives me a kiss as we bounce along in our seat on the bus. "Come on, Sweetheart, I'm only teasing you because you are so damn cute."

"Don't try to make nice, Edward. You write your story, and I'll write mine."

"Oh yeah? What are you writing about?"

"I am thinking about 'Little Bo Peep."

"Where are you going with that?"

"I was thinking maybe the reason she couldn't find her sheep was that a certain vampire was picking them off, one at a time."

"Okay. So what happens when she figures this out?" he prods.

"He's only doing it to lure the virginal Bo Peep away from her father."

"Wait, am _I_ the _vampire_ in this story?" he asks with horror.

"Do you want to be?"

He considers his answer carefully. "I guess that would depend…"

"On?"

"Well, first of all, what was he doing with all those sheep? Because I am _really_ not into bestiality."

"Ew and good to know. What else?"

"Well, what happens when he finally gets Bel- I mean, Bo? Are we talking about taking a sip or two, or is he going to drain the life out of her?"

"I was kind of thinking he might offer her eternal life."

"Hunh," he says noncommittally.

"What?" I push.

"Well, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I think that story line has kind of been done to death."

"What if she said 'no' to him? Would that be original?"

"So, she lets him drink from her, but just enough to exist? And he accepts her decision?"

"Yes. Of course, they fall madly in love."

He nods. "Of course. And they watch over her flock together while she grows old and grey?"

"Sure. Who better to watch over innocent sheep than a blood-thirsty vampire?"

"He wouldn't be blood thirsty if Bo was satisfying all his needs." He waggles his eyebrows.

"Are we talking about Bill and Hillary again?"

"Ugh. Let's not."

"Right. So do you think my vampire would go for that? I mean, what sexy young 25-year-old vampire wants to be stuck with an aging 48-year-old woman?"

He smiles rather devilishly and answers, "I've heard that women are just reaching their sexual stride in their late forties. I think the arrangement could have some merit."

"Really, now?" I press, intrigued at this concept. "And what about when she's in her late 70's?"

"I would think that by that time, they've really gotten to know everything there is to know about each other, and they can almost communicate without words. That feels comforting to me."

"So you don't think he'd miss the crazy sex?"

"Well, his body may stay 25 forever, but I would think his mind would be in a much different place."

I turn in my seat to face him full on, intrigued by this little glimpse into the psyche of Edward Cullen, a boy who never fails to surprise me in all the best ways. "So, Edward, are you really and honestly saying that you could envision a time in your own life when you would be completely happy to be with a lady in her late 70's?"

"Of course, I can, Bella. It's called getting old and grey together. The twilight years. I'm not saying I wish to be there tomorrow, but when I do, I'd like to know that there's a girl next to me who's in the same place. And if by some miracle, some younger 50-year-old gal tried to tempt me away from my sweetheart, I wouldn't give her a second look."

"That sounds like a lovely fairy tale," I sigh. My life experiences have not afforded me the same positive outlook on love.

"That sounds like my parents' marriage, Bella. And it happens all the time."

Be still my warmed heart. "Come on, Edward. We're in Stockton."

O)(O

There is literally one traffic light in the center of town, and that's it. Quaint shops and little restaurants line the streets for three blocks in both directions. "I'm not hungry yet," he says. "Wanna poke around a bit?"

"Sure," I answer, so incredibly content just to hold his hand and walk along the streets.

"Still recording, Bella?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then, for the record, I'm really happy right now."

"Me, too, Edward."

**^EPOV^**

Three antique shops and two rare bookstores later, we settle on The Atlantic Grill for dinner. It wasn't a tough choice; it was that or Dunkin Donuts.

"Want to talk more about your story?" she asks, holding up the recorder.

"Not now. We can always do it on the way back, if we get bored of kissing."

"As if," she says, then looks embarrassed. "Oops, did I just say that out loud?"

I chuckle along with her. "This was a really great idea, Bella. You really took the sting out of the assignment."

"And we get to have rainbow trout and bok choy."

"I can never get enough bok choy," I comment sarcastically.

"I didn't even know what bok choy was three months ago. It's amazing how my life has changed since I got to school."

"I know, Bella. Can you even remember back before you turned into a slut?"

"Shhhhhhh! Hey!" She reaches over and whacks my upper arm. Our drama is interrupted by the food delivery. Bella gives me a significant warning glare to hold my tongue in front of our waiter.

"So, have you and Rose talked at all about rooming together next year?"

"Yes, we definitely plan to do that. Especially with Emmett graduating and moving on. It's going to be really hard for her."

"Something tells me Em's gonna be fairly close. And since he's looking at medical schools, there's no better place than the East Coast."

"Right, but it still won't be the same as spending every hour of every day together. What about you and Jasper?"

"I think I can put up with his sorry ass another year."

"And how does he feel about playing second fiddle?"

"I have a feeling he'll come roaring back next fall and give me a run for my money at the number one slot." I smile, picturing Jasper working his long game over the summer to try and dethrone me.

"What do you think Alice is going to do?"

"I don't know. She and Bree don't really seem to hang out much any more."

She snorts. "Yeah, once Bree realized she couldn't have you, she ditched Alice for the next available guy getter."

"Guy getter?"

"Y'know, wing woman? Bait? Man magnet?"

"Ohhhhh. You mean _friend_," I nod in understanding. "So are you thinking maybe you and Rose would ask Alice if she wanted to live with you?"

"I think that's a great idea. Alice is great."

"Yeah, and she's perfect for Jasper."

"Mmmm," Bella agrees, a faraway look in her eyes.

**~BPOV~**

"Okay, how about this? We work until we get to New Brunswick, and then we kiss the rest of the way?"

"Deal."

By the time we roll back onto campus, both of our papers are largely written and we've grossed out everybody on the bus.

O)(O

"Thanks for typing up my draft," Edward says on the way to class.

"It's no problem, Edward. I just pulled together all the different bits and reorganized them. It's not done, but you've got a great start here."

We push through the doorway and take our usual spots. Peer review Wednesday. My favorite Comp Sem class.

"I think you know Jack and Jill better than I do at this point. You better give me a chance to read my own story first."

I watch his eyes move laboriously across the page. If I didn't know he'd struggled earlier in life, I probably wouldn't detect it now. Having traveled full circle with him from idea to plot development to composition, however, I can see that the written word is really his only stumbling block. Edward's story is excellent, and as he reads for himself, I know he can see it as well. As he finishes, a smile lights his face.

"You know it's good, don't you?" I encourage him.

"It's pretty good."

"Well, what do you think could be improved?"

"Hey, no fair, I'm not supposed to critique myself!"

I chuckle at his petulance. "You should at least make some notes for yourself while it's still fresh in your mind. Go ahead, I'll wait."

Edward thinks and writes, thinks and writes more. Finally, he looks up. "Okay, your turn."

I reel off my few comments and his smile widens.

"What?" I ask.

He turns his paper around so I can see he's written the exact comments I just mentioned. Almost word for word.

"Creepy," I say.

"I know," he answers. But our matching grins speak louder than our words. We're on the same page.

O)(O

"Are you still seeing Emily on Thursdays?"

"Not every Thursday, but we have a big test Monday, so I am going to see her tomorrow."

"I've got Connor at 3 as well. Want to meet up after and walk back?"

"Sure, maybe we can put the final touches on our stories tomorrow and then go to the caf together."

"Sounds like a rip-roaring night!" he teases.

"Well, what can I say, Edward? I'm just a super exciting girl."

"Hmmm, somebody agrees," he says, his eyes dipping along the mattress to where said excited body part is making itself known behind faded denim.

**^EPOV^**

"Thank him for the compliment," she ventures.

_Thank him yourself_, I don't say. Though the idea of Bella having a little more direct contact with my lower half has started to insinuate itself into my consciousness more and more frequently. I try hard not to, but I cannot help but set out an imaginary timetable. There is a somewhat natural progression to this, and though I've never experienced a relationship quite this same way, I'd imagine I could pretty well predict what that might look like. Seeing. Touching. Jerking. And dare I imagine…sucking and fu-. Ughhh, STOP!

And I feel no less guilty when my thoughts automatically reroute themselves to Bella's body. In much the same order. Soon, my cock is positively banging against my zipper and I'm going to have to do something about it.

I try drawing her attention downward to test the waters. "He says, 'You're welcome.'"

Her eyes flick down, as I suspected they might, and her smile gets just a smidgen darker.

"You know, it's not really fair," I tell her.

"What isn't'?"

"That you can see exactly what you do to me, and you're all hidden away."

Even though the room is mostly dark, I see the blush color her face. "A girl's gotta be entitled to her secrets."

I reach out two fingers and tuck away the few strands of hair blocking my view of her hot cheeks. "You sure you don't want to tell me your secrets, Bella?"

She nods her head gently and whispers, "Not yet."

I immediately bring my lips to hers and kiss her with all I've got. Anchoring my nose right up against hers, I tell her, "That's fine, Sweetheart. I am happy to wait."

She whispers again, closing her eyes with relief, "Thank you, Edward."

I pull her into a tight hug and give her one final peck on the lips as I push off her bed. "I'll see you outside the Library tomorrow. I've got to go do some work. G'night."

O)(O

I read the first paragraph on page 386 for a fourth time before admitting nothing is sinking in. "Fuuuuck," I say in utter defeat. Jerking off in a double is not a safe bet, especially since Jasper and Alice have an unpredictable migration pattern. I strip down quickly and wrap my towel around my waist, batting down my boner to the best of my ability. No need for shampoo tonight, but I grab my Dial shower gel. Luckily, I'm alone in the bathroom, and I hastily adjust the knobs getting the water to at least a passable temperature before hopping in the shower. I've lost nothing of my motivation through five pages of psychology and three sets of math problems. I close my eyes and give myself a few quick strokes.

If you're gonna do it in the dorm shower, you have to be quick and quiet. Because some guys think nothing of ripping back the curtain for fun, and that is just not pleasant.

I think back to Bella's face, just moments before I left her on the bed. That look she got in her eyes as they dipped down to ponder the mystery of the bulge in my jeans. I imagine myself unzipping, letting her have her first "look" through my boxers, then sliding those down, ever so slowly so as not to scare her away with the Beast. Yeah, I'm a cocky fucker in my fantasies. I remember that blush of hers, and now it's tenfold. She reaches out one finger and gives me an experimental caress. Her eyes pop out as she feels the silky smooth skin along the top and the change in texture at the base.

I brace myself against the wall as I run my wet hand up and down my shaft, faster and faster, picturing Bella's hands tentatively wrapping around me for the first time. And that's all she wrote. I muffle the telltale sounds as best as I can under the running water as I add my own spray into the mix.

Coming down from my quick spike, I experience a pang of conscience at turning Bella into my dirty masturbation fantasy. _That's a new one_, I reflect back.

**~BPOV~**

I'm bouncing back and forth from my left to my right side, trying to stay warm while I wait for Connor to show up. I spy his trademark stocking hat with the bright stripes approaching up the walk. He is with a girl I don't know, and as they get closer, I can see that they're holding hands, well gloves. He pulls up in front of the library and they turn toward each other. Connor tips her scarf down, revealing her mouth for one second before covering it with his own.

"Meet you back here in an hour," I hear him say. She nods and moves along her way. Connor turns to me, bright smile still plastered across his face.

"Hello," I greet.

"Oh hey, Bella. Am I late?" No, he's never been late.

"No. Not at all. So…" Come on, Connor. _Give_. I gesture toward the departing girl with my eyes.

"Diana Conlon."

"And?"

"We met at a party Friday night. And we've been apart for about five minutes since then, outside of classes, of course."

"Well, I'm certainly glad to hear you're not skipping classes!"

"You're jealous?" he asks with a twinkle in his eye.

"Of course I'm jealous. Nobody likes to be easily replaced."

He chuckles and pushes me inside. "Who said it was easy?"

O)(O

Diana is waiting faithfully at the appointed time and place, and I give Connor a little elbow bump as he heads her way. "I'm happy for you, Connor."

"Thanks, Bella. Besides, you've already got everything you need."

He's seen Edward spilling out with Emily. I nod to Connor, confirming his hypothesis, and he walks off happily into the arms of Scarf Girl. Edward catches their reunion as well.

"Ah, young love."

"I know. Aren't they cute?'

"Darling. So…do we need a Froth attack to get this done, or should we just head straight back?"

"I'm good. How about you?" I ask him.

"I think I've got enough in the tank. Let's go."

O)(O

"I've already got both of our papers up on my laptop, so we should just go to my room."

"Fine by me. That just means you've got to type both of our edits."

I roll my eyes, as if there were another logical solution. What takes me ten minutes to type amounts to half an hour or more for Edward. It's not a good use of his time, and I'd rather have him free to entertain me. It's a win-win situation.

I hop on the bed and prop myself up with my 'boyfriend' pillow. Hmm, I ponder, wouldn't it be fun if the real boyfriend were back there holding me up. Another time. I pull Edward's paper up first and he hands me his notebook.

"I really like what you did here, by the way. That little save by Jack where Jill slips at the well and twists her ankle? Then Jack has to carry her piggy back down the hill? Nice touch."

"I couldn't figure out how I was going to get her to see him in a new light. They'd been friends forever. Something had to happen."

"Then all of a sudden, she's riding on his back, and that switch just goes off."

"It's her blue sweater moment," he says.

"What's that?"

"Oh. That night you wore your blue sweater, when we doubled with Emmett and Rose? That was it for me. The switch went on."

"You're such a dork sometimes, Edward."

"Oh yeah? When did _you_ know? About me?"

"What do you mean? I'm still waiting for the switch to come on," I tease, concentrating again on my keyboard and tapping out his edits.

"Hunh."

My eyes slip over to his, and he's cooking something up.

"So," he says, scooting closer, "it would have no effect on you if I did this?" He runs his hand up my leg to my knee and gives me a squeeze.

"Nope." I ignore him best I can and continue typing.

"What about this?" His hand journeys higher, reaching my inner thigh. I can feel the heat as it nears the combat zone. And it's not just the exhaust from my laptop raising the temperature.

"No, sorry." Tap, tap, tap.

"Darn. I really thought I could make you feel _something_. Not even _this_?" He plants the heel of his hand right at the bottom of my zipper and grinds it around just enough to really leave me hot and bothered. My eyes flutter closed and an embarrassing noise leaves my lips.

"Still nothing?"

"Okay, fine, Edward. You had me the first time you took me putting."

A grin starts out on his face and spreads until he's all teeth. He leans back on his elbows and says, "You don't have any idea how happy that makes me, Bella."

"Why, Edward? You've had girls hanging on you your whole life."

"Because of the way I _look_. That's not even something I had anything to do with."

"Really? You were born with those abs and that…"

He chuckles at my almost admission of more of his physical charms. "Okay, fine, I worked a bit on my body. But you were attracted to something else. Something you saw inside of me. Maybe patience? Determination? I don't want to put words in your mouth or anything."

"No, those words are just fine. That's exactly what it was that first drew me in."

"And you were looking at my ass. A lot."

"Yes, Edward. It's a very fine ass." I roll my eyes. "Is it okay if I start typing again?"

"Sure, Bella. Knock yourself out." He folds his hands behind his head and relaxes back against the bed, wide grin adorning his face.

O)(O

"You have two minutes to sit next to anyone other than your writing partner and colorize this essay. Go, people! Vacation was last weekend."

Edward gives me a boo-boo face and a kiss before abandoning me. I grab Angela quickly, and Edward gets nabbed by Jessica. If not for the fact that he looks pained the entire hour, I'd worry. Even from behind him, I can see the telltale signs that he's not enjoying himself one bit. Hair pulling, rocking, distance between them. No, I'm not worried.

Time is finally up and we reunite gratefully. "Blah. What torture."

"You're just spoiled, Edward."

"No shit. Not only do I have the hottest writing partner in the class, I also have the best writer."

"Oh." Wow, a little bit.

**^EPOV^**

"Stay close to me, Bella. Emmett's parties can get pretty sick."

"So I've heard from Rose."

"Yeah, once football season is over, these guys _really_ turn into animals."

I try to prepare her, but we get to his house after the party's already in full swing. As an off campus residence house with all 21-year-olds, the university doesn't try to monitor their alcohol consumption. Every horizontal surface is covered with bottles, cans and cups. I take a deep breath and grab Bella's hand.

"If this is bad, we'll just go, okay?"

"Sure."

"Bella! Little Cullen!" Rose yells out from the dance floor, waving wildly. She seems to be dancing solo, and I'm not sure she knows it.

"Where's my brother?" I shout into her ear, so I can be heard above the pounding beat.

"Kitchen."

"Bella, dance with me!" Rose grabs Bella's other hand and starts twirling her around. I give Bella a questioning look and she seems content to stay with Rose, so I let go. I gesture toward the kitchen and she nods, then turns back to Rose and humors her. This is going to require some alcohol.

Emmett's in the kitchen with several of his teammates, sitting around the table playing some drinking game with part of a deck of cards. "Eddie!" he shouts out, ten decibels louder than normal, and waves me over.

"Glad to shee you bro!" he slurs. "Listen, I am hammered, but I jushh lost this hand. Do me a solid and take my shot for me?"

I lean over, grab his shot, and suck it down quickly.

"Thanksh, man."

"No problem, Em. Did you ever consider that maybe it's time to quit?"

"No way, Eddie. Cullens. Don't. Quit."

I clap him on the back. "Okay, Em. You take it easy, okay?"

"Sure Eddie. Oh, fuck. I jushh lost again. Mind?" He holds the shot glass out to me once more, and I oblige, shaking my head at his nonsense. Emmett's a big guy and he usually has no problem holding his weight in alcohol, but not after five months of sober training. He is going to have one rough night ahead, and if I don't get out of this room quickly, I'll be right behind him on the floor.

I fill two cups with vodka and tonic and make my way back out to Bella. She's right where I left her, but Rose has wrapped herself around Bella as if she'd melt to the floor without her. She rolls her eyes when she sees me and reaches her hand out for the drink.

"You okay?" I mouth.

She nods back. I shake my head and chuckle at Emmett's other half. Bella takes a few sips of her drink and the music changes to something she apparently likes. She and Rosalie become more animated. They're dancing and moving together now, as opposed to Bella just keeping Rosalie upright. I'm starting to enjoy watching them, and I'm not the only one. A small crowd begins to gather, and soon there's cheering and whistling. Bella keeps sipping her drink, and soon she hands me her empty cup to refill. I trade her mine, which is still mostly full and head back to the kitchen for more.

"Em, you might want to check out what's happening out there," I tell him.

"Why? What ish it?"

"Our girls are dancing."

"With each other?"

"Yeah. It's actually pretty hot."

"Guys, I gotta shee this. Cullminator out." Apparently, the quitting code can be suspended for hot girl-on-girl dancing.

He stumbles to his feet and wobbles into the next room with me. Bella looks decidedly more trashed than when I left her. She's whipping her hair around and gyrating her hips. Rose is behind her, dancing with her hands on Bella's hips, grinding her front into Bella's ass and loving every minute of it. Bella raises her arms above her head and lets loose a whoop.

Emmett is beyond controlling himself, and he slides in behind Rose on the makeshift dance floor, pulling her ass against his fly and pulling her hips toward his obscenely. I'm embarrassed to say I'm incredibly turned on by this scene, which is even more disturbing now that Emmett's entered the picture. I'm watching his hands like a hawk, making sure they don't cross past Rose and accidentally touch Bella. One false move and my brother is toast. I don't care if he's got fifty pounds on me.

I tip back my drink and slide the remainder of its contents down before tossing the cup aside. Bella smiles and gestures me out to meet her, and I willingly oblige. I step out in front of her and peel her away from Rosalie. My brain is transmitting one simple message. Mine. Mine. Mine. She wraps her arms around my neck and wriggles her hips against my front. Between the pounding music and the alcohol and the dancing girls, I am rock hard against her. I push one leg forward between Bella's and she practically climbs aboard, pulling her thigh against me. I wrap an arm behind her and pull her waist to me, creating a rough friction.

Bella's face looks wild and uninhibited. I crash my lips against hers and she moans loudly and finds my tongue. She sucks all the oxygen out of me, and I have to back off just to breathe. My lips find her ear and I rumble in a low voice, "God Bella. You are so fucking hot like this!"

She tucks her face into my neck and sucks my skin between her teeth. I can hear her moaning as she grinds on my leg. Suddenly, I put two and two together and realize that my girl is about to explode right here in front of all these drunk people. And I don't think she's going to be real proud of herself tomorrow if that happens.

I waltz her away from Rose and Emmett, away from the dance floor, and out of everyone's line of vision. She's breathless as I'm leading her, her eyes flicking open and closed, confused and dizzy.

"Come on, Baby, we're getting out of here," I tell her, pulling our coats off the pile in the corner of the floor.

"Wait, Edward, what are you-?"

Opening the door, I deposit both of us into the wintery night, immediately injecting a sobering blast of cold air and damping down our out of control desire.

"I didn't even say goodbye," she protests.

"We'll send 'em a text in the morning. If they even remember we were here."

I pull an arm tightly around her waist, half leading, half carrying her back to her room. No way is Rosalie making it back there tonight.

**~BPOV~**

"I got it, I got it," I say, batting Edward's hand away from the knob. "I'm not trashed, y'know."

"Okay, Bella," he chuckles from behind.

"Seriously, if you stop pressing me against the door, I can do this!"

He pulls away and lifts his hands in surrender. Miraculously, the key slips into the lock and the knob turns in my hand. I flick on the light switch, immediately realize that's a huge mistake, and shut it off again.

"You're a pretty good dancer, Edward," I say, taking his hand and pulling him toward me.

"Oh yeah? You and Rose were doing a pretty sexy little grind out there. Care to tell me where you learned that?"

Oh. He wants to know where I got my slut moves. "I was just letting Rose lead."

"Hmm," he says, "so if I lead you'll follow?"

"Probably." Sounds reasonable.

"Well, c'mere then," he coaxes, turning my back to his front and drawing me against him.

"You're too tall for me," I complain.

He bends his knees and says, "How 'bout now?"

Edward's hands pull me up against his zipper and I feel the familiar hard line in his pants. Giggling, I answer, "Rose didn't have one of _those_."

"Well, I'm sure Emmett is pleased as punch about that."

He's grinding behind me and holding me firmly against him, and his hands move up under my shirt. My arms feel like dead weights until I remember that Rose pulled my hands up and around her neck, so I try that now.

Edward hums with approval behind me and traces his fingers down my arms, tickling me and causing me to buckle with giggles.

"Ah, somebody's ticklish. I'm gonna have to remember that."

Edward starts fiddling with my buttons and I'm boarding the express train back to Slutsville. He unbuckles my bra and tucks his hands under the cups, and he's squeezing and pinching and touching. I feel so hot everywhere, I have to get my shirt off now or I'll burst into flames. I release Edward and shimmy out of my shirt and bra, tossing them onto the floor. Edward takes his shirt off as well, and when I back into him again, it's skin to skin, my new favorite thing in the world.

"Mmmm," I hum contentedly.

His lips are right at the entrance to my ear and I can feel his hot breath pick up in pace. I turn my head sideways so I can reach his lips with mine. "What kind of kiss was that, Edward?"

"That was a…" he stops midsentence and reaches for the button on my jeans. "…_Can-I-please?_ kiss"

His hand and the kissing stop, and for a second, so does our breathing. I nod my head yes, and he kisses me again. His fingers undo the button and start the zipper down ever so slowly. If he's waiting for me to stop him, it's so not gonna happen. Edward's about to see my red and white striped cotton boy shorts for the very first time, and I step away from him so I can see his reaction. I take over sliding my jeans down and seconds later, I'm stepping out of the legs one at a time.

The lighting is dim but he can see me. And I can see him right back. He's standing across from me, his bare chest heaving, and his mouth is just a little bit open as he takes in my almost naked body.

"Bella," he whispers. Then, "Wow."

I'm not really used to this body yet myself, but I'm feeling confident and proud. And slutty.

I point to his pants, and he knows what I want. My heart is pounding. I know there's another layer in there, but this will put us dangerously close.

Edward wastes no time at all undoing his button and zipper. His eyes locked on mine, he slides his jeans down his legs and steps out. He stands up again proudly in a pair of black boxers that cling to him in ways that don't seem legal. We're not wearing much less than we were after our workout, but this is underwear, not workout shorts. People don't go out in public in this stuff. Well, unless they're shooting an underwear ad.

My eyes drop down to his waistband and I can't see nearly as well as I'd like. I cross back in front of him and very lightly touch his front with mine. Satiny skin meeting firm muscles, toes overlapping, cotton brushing cotton. _Swoon._

Edward's arms close around my waist and draw me tighter. His hand drifts down over my panties and he squeezes my ass cheek. The other hand decides that was a fine idea and joins the first. I realize that he's not the only one who can enjoy this pleasure, and I grab two handfuls of Edward for myself.

Edward's response is a surprised grunt that is so sexy I answer with a groan of my own. Soon, he's walking me backwards toward the bed and lifts me up by my ass cheeks once we've arrived. He tosses me like a sack of potatoes, and I bounce and giggle. He's on top of me seconds later, and my hands cannot get enough of everything they're touching. His back, his hair, his ass, his abs, his face.

Yes, I know, with all those choices, I pick the face? It's just that after he kisses me so roughly at first, he pulls back and just looks at me. I've never been seen before the way Edward sees me.

It's like we're in a movie and the frame is frozen in this moment. The only movement is my finger brushing lightly over his cheek. His eyelids close reverently, and I brush across them gently with the pad of my thumb. His nose drops to mine, and he takes another kiss before pushing off me and to the side.

He brings his hand to my face and mimics my motions.

"Edward, is something wrong?"

"I don't ever want to do anything to hurt you, Bella."

He's so serious. "Sounds like a plan," I say, hoping to lighten the moment.

**^EPOV^**

She doesn't get it. I don't want to be Bobby Buzzkill, but I don't want Bella to do something in a drunken haze that she either won't remember or will wish she didn't.

I'm overwhelmed by a sense of responsibility for her well-being. To use her metaphor about my experience, I feel like I've already arrived, and I have to make sure her own passage is safe. I make a very mature decision- if I do say so myself- that bottoms will be staying on tonight.

But that doesn't mean there won't be touching.

I draw one finger tantalizingly down from her chin, through the nipply hills, over the navel, and right down the middle of her boy shorts. Bella squirms delightfully, and I repeat the routine several times. Finally, she loses patience and growls, "Touch me, Edward! For God's sakes, touch me!"

I give her some crazy attention, still on top of the panties, poking in around the sides and top just for fun. Three fingers, a palm, the heel of my hand, a knuckle or two. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she rocks and rolls, desperately trying to increase the pressure against my hand. I give her just what she needs and she floats over the moon for me.

I roll on top to give her a kiss, and she wraps her arms around my upper back and holds on tight while she comes down again. Her thigh presses rhythmically against my boxers, and I realize she's returning the favor. I've done more dry humping in the last week with Bella than I have since ninth grade, but it's all good. I answer her leg with a push back and a nipple grab, which I find adds immensely to the experience.

I'm nearing my own completion, when suddenly Bella rolls us over and now she's on top. My little horn dog is going cowboy on me! But no, she's got something else in mind. She pins down my hips with her knees and ignores my upward bumps. Vixen has me trapped in a prison of my own making. What is she up to? She places her palm on my stomach, stilling me.

I lock eyes with her, and she scoots her body down so that she's basically sitting on my thighs. She slides that hand from my stomach to my waistband and stops.

Very quietly, she says, "Is it okay if I…?" and then she chickens out.

I cross my arms behind my head and settle in. "You can do anything you want, Sweetheart." I smile broadly, because I cannot ever remember being happier than I am right in this moment.

Bella's eyes snap back to the covered part of my body. She drags one finger experimentally down my very hard length, then draws it back quickly.

"'S'okay. I promise he doesn't bite."

I try to wait patiently for her to stroke me again. It's the longest two and a half seconds of my life. This time, she uses her entire palm, getting a feel for where things begin and end. Her expression is totally adorable; her mouth opens in surprise, her eyes widen with hunger for more. I'm guessing she looks a lot like me right now.

"What do I do now?" she asks.

"You're doing just fine," I coax.

She giggles and plays some more. When she adds the second hand, I fail to stay still. I struggle to keep my hands where they are. I know it's important to let her do this at her own pace, but it's maddening. She has absolutely no idea what she's doing to me.

She's getting bolder with her strokes, coming at me from both sides, harder, faster, until, "Oooomph!"

"Ohmygod, I'm so SORRY!"

My hand moves reflexively to the sac she's just crushed with the butt of her hand. "I'm okay," I choke out, though in truth, I'm not positive I am.

She moves off me quickly and rolls to her side next to me. I consider asking her to kiss it and make it better, but I'm pretty sure that'll set us back a good week or so!

"Give me your hand, Bella."

She places her hand trustingly in mine. I give her a little tour of the area, pointing out the more important attractions- tip, shaft, and –ahem- balls. "Now this is where you need to tread very carefully," I say, making sure she feels the part I'm referring to.

"Sorry," she says again. "Do you have an instruction manual I could study or something?"

"No, Bella, but I can give you some really good On-the-Job Training!" I say enthusiastically.

"Please do. I want to make you feel the way you just made me feel," she says somewhat shyly.

"All right. Here," I say, running her hand along my length again and again. After a while, it's like riding a bicycle, and I let go, replacing my hands behind my head. Bella's driving the bike, and I feel her settle into a nice rhythm. I'm already so close, our little class in The Care and Keeping of The Penis propelling me near the edge.

My moans do a great job letting her know what I especially like, though truthfully, every single thing she does feels amazing. And the fact that she's doing it so enthusiastically. And almost naked. Bella alternates between watching my dick and watching my face. It's hard to keep my eyes focused on her, but there's something really intimate about this moment that I don't want to miss.

She's discovered that I'm ready for faster and harder, and she's working both hands over me now in an alternating, predictable pattern that is making me nuts. I wish I could reach her breasts but she's sitting just above my knees. I'm completely at her mercy, and it's a wonderful place to be.

**~BPOV~**

My earlier nervousness at touching this mysterious body part has dissipated. I feel an enormous sense of power over Edward as he completely gives himself over to me. He's left me entirely in charge of his pleasure, and I want so badly to please him. His green eyes have closed almost to slits with the intensity of his lust. His chest heaves and his hips push off the bed into my hands with every stroke I take. And the sexy noises coming out of his mouth…my poor, poor panties!

The faster I rub, the louder and squirmier he gets. Stroke, stroke, stroke...am I doing this right? Brush, brush, brush…oh, he seemed to like that! Then that low keening noise that starts to build, and I recognize that he's almost, almost, almost...

Everything tightens and stops for half a second, then he completely lets go. His eyes roll up to the ceiling and he pants and moans and explodes under my hands. I practically relive my own orgasm watching his excitement. He reaches for me, and I fold myself across his body, loving the way his rocky chest feels against mine.

"God, Bella, that was fantastic! You sure you've never done that before?" he chuckles.

"Very funny."

He's stroking up and down my back with one hand and running through my hair with the other. I notice a little wetness on his stomach.

"Oh," I say brilliantly.

"What?"

"It's a little sticky."

He chuckles under me and his whole body shakes. "Yeah, that happens."

"Isn't it kind of uncomfortable?"

"Just until I clean up. No big deal."

"Edward?"

"Mmmm?"

"Was I really good?"

"Fuck yeah. Guys can't really fake it, so…"

"That was really fun."

He pulls my head toward his and kisses me sweetly. "You're an awesome girlfriend, Bella."


	15. Which Sense?

**12/5/2011 **

**^EPOV^**

"As I pass these back, I want you to take turns reading aloud the passages that I've highlighted. As you listen, think about how the author has treated that climactic moment, the switch that flips in the best stories, that changes everything. Edward, start please."

Banner hands my paper back first, and I identify the passage and read,

'_Jack, I can walk. Really. Just let me lean on you.'_

'_No way,' he says squatting down in front of her, offering his back. 'If you make your ankle worse, you won't be able to play kickball with me for the rest of the summer.'_

'_But what about the water? How are we going to get those pails down the hill? Mother needs the water for the washing.'_

'_Climb on and let me worry about your mother's water, okay?'_

_Favoring her sprained side, Jill ambles up to Jack's dusty back, evidence of where he threw himself in her way earlier to stop her from tumbling further down the hill. Gingerly, she pulls her bad leg over his side and feels him take hold behind her skinned knee._

'_Okay, the other one now,' Jack says, unbothered by her extra weight on his back._

_Jill places her hands atop his shoulder blades and lifts the other leg up and around him. He loops his elbow around that leg, too, then snags the pails on his way up._

_Jill grasps tightly at Jack's neck as her center of gravity shifts beneath her, and she realizes her best friend's back is her only way down the hill back home._

'_You're going to have to hold on tight up there. I've got my hands full with these pails.'_

_Jill notices with admiration the way Jack's muscles tighten and bulge, managing the load of the water in addition to her own added bulk. A sweaty sheen mixes with the dirt around his neck and at the bottom of his hair, and Jill thinks she's never seen anything more manly in her twelve years of life.'_

"Okay, perfect. Thank you, Edward. Comments? Questions?"

Angela raises her hand first, "I like her realization that dirt and sweat can be attractive."

Mike pipes in, "She should come see me after soccer practice," and light laughter follows.

Ben adds, "I like how innocent his gesture is, but at the same time, it means everything to her."

"Edward, care to respond?"

"I tried to pick a moment that was just Jack being Jack, but it was actually incredibly heroic to her. Almost like the dust on his back was clearing from her eyes, and she was seeing him in a whole new way."

Bella smiles proudly but doesn't add her own commentary. I've already woven her thoughts into the fabric of the story.

Professor Banner points out, "I want to commend you for getting so many facts into such a short space. You've given away their age, both by saying that she's twelve and indicating the kickball game; you've placed the story in its original era both by using the term, 'Mother' and by indicating that the well water would be needed for the wash; and you've managed to tell the story in third person yet indicate how both of them feel at various points. It's really solid writing, Edward. Who's next?"

Bella leans over and whispers, "Teacher's pet." I give her a wink in return.

O)(O

'_That's silly. I'm always going to be 107 years older than you.'_

'_Yes, but your skin isn't wrinkled and your hair isn't greying, and your body….well.' I chuckle at her blush._

'_I see you, Bo. Yes, my eyes are supernatural, and I can actually see inside you. But I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about my heart seeing into yours. Your arteries may harden a bit but there's nothing a little wear and tear on your physical being is going to do to change what I love about you.'_

'_Oh, Victor, of course you're going to say something sweet like that, but-'_

'_Bo. I'm going to tell you something right now that may be a bit hard for you to believe. Ready?'_

_She takes a deep breath, then blows it out. 'Okay.'_

'_The truth of the matter is, I've been searching for your soul to pass this way for my whole existence. Do you know how hard it is for me to relate to girls who are my physical body's age? It would be like you going on a date with a toddler!'_

'_Ew.'_

_I chuckle. 'Yes, Ew. Exactly. But you and I match, inside. And that's not going to change in five years or fifty-five years. Stay with me and be my mate.'_

"Okay, who wants to respond?"

Jessica's hand shoots up, "Ohmygosh, that was so romantic!"

"Let's explore that, Jessica. What is it about the writing that makes it romantic?"

Mike adds, "It's impossible. First of all, you've got the dangerous vampire thing. Always a physical threat to Bo and her sheep. Then you've got the age difference. I mean, he's 107 and she's 17. By the time she reaches anything close to his chronological age, it's gonna look like she's robbing the cradle."

Professor Banner answers, "You've put your finger on it, Michael. The improbability of their coupling is one of the elements that make it so romantic, in fact, define a romance. Look at Romeo and Juliet- two different sides of the tracks- impossible; Love Story- the girl dies, oh spoiler alert, sorry; Casablanca-one woman, two men, political quagmire-completely untenable; Wuthering Heights…well, you get my point."

A hand goes up, "But then why did Edward's romance work? How were they improbable?"

"Edward, or maybe Bella? Who wants to answer?"

I tip my hand to my eloquent girlfriend for her explanation. "Maybe the most impossible of all of the romantic conflicts is when people start out as friends, like Jack and Jill. They'd been climbing that hill together for at least eight years, maybe twice a week?"

I nod my confirmation, as if somehow now I'm the expert on the water fetchers.

"There has to be something," Bella continues, "that changes the way they look at each other one day. Maybe it's as simple as seeing a muscle flex, or maybe it's something more dramatic, like a heroic rescue. Or maybe it's planting someone a garden or making a person's favorite kind of pie."

I jump in, "Or maybe it's seeing your name across a girl's back, or playing a duet together on the piano."

"Or teaching you how to swing a golf club."

"Mm, mmm,…ahem." Professor Banner interrupts.

"Oops," Bella giggles nervously, and I squeeze her hand, adding a little shrug Banner's direction.

"Well, I think that just about covers romance. This week we're going to move away from fiction. I'd like you to write about one sense you could not do without, and what you'd be missing if it were taken from you. Three pages ought to do it. Have a good Monday, everyone."

**~BPOV~**

"Well, that was embarrassing," I admit. But Edward, as usual, seems impervious to embarrassment.

"You know what they say, Bella. You gotta write what you know."

"Hmm, so when's the last time you put a girl on your back, Jack?"

"Actually, it's been far too long. Why don't you climb aboard?" He bends down gallantly, setting his knee down into the snow.

"Get up, you goofball."

"If I weren't going the opposite direction to my pre-calc exam, I'd insist," he says.

"I believe you," I say, reaching to give him a kiss.

He dodges and explains, "I feel like I might be getting a cold."

"Bummer." For me. No kissing for a while. Selfish much?

"Later? Riley's?"

"Sure, meet me at 3:40?"

O)(O

At 2:55, I get a text from Edward:

_B-Feel like crap. U better work out without me. Give Riley a kiss for me. No, don't. XE_

_E-Sorry, Baby. I'll come by after and check on you. Take a nap? xb_

I plow through my workout but it's not the same without Edward. I'm spoiled, and I know it. I don't even stop off in my room on the way back. I give Edward's door a light knock, in case he really is napping. Jasper opens the door.

"Hey," I greet him.

"Nurse Ratchet's here," he says to Edward, stepping aside with an eye roll. As I pass him, Jasper whispers, "Big faker," to me.

Edward's lying on top of his bed, still wearing his clothes from earlier, his green fleece blanket clutched tightly around his shoulders. I sit down gingerly beside him and he opens his eyes briefly, painfully it seems. Before my palm even touches his forehead, I can tell he's burning up with fever.

"Have you taken anything?"

"Bella, you should go. You're gonna get sick. I can take care of myself."

"Jas, has he had any Advil?"

"No. I couldn't get him to take anything. It's over on the windowsill."

"Thanks." I grab the bottle and drop two caplets into my hand, snagging the water bottle on my way.

"Hey, you really need to take this," I say, sitting down on his bed again.

"Can't," he chokes out.

"You're not allergic or anything?" It hits me that I could have just done something dangerous.

"No." _Phew_.

"Come on, big guy," I coax him to sitting, rubbing the chills away and dropping the pills into his hot palm. I quickly hand him the water and he manages to choke them down. I gently slide him back down.

"Bella, go. Please. I don't want you to catch this."

"Jasper, you should go stay with Alice. I'll take care of him."

"Twist my arm. Hey, thanks, Bella. His key is there on his desk if you need to leave and come back. Take care, Eduardo, and don't cough on my stuff."

Edward's too sick to even respond.

"Listen, I'm gonna go shower and change and get my stuff for tomorrow and I'll be back. Is there anything at all I can get you?"

Pathetic moan.

I kiss him on the forehead and say, "Be back soon."

O)(O

"Rose, are you with Emmett?"

"What's wrong, Bella?"

"It's Edward. He's really sick."

"Hold on, let me get him."

I hastily throw a clean shirt and underwear into my backpack, along with my toothbrush and toothpaste. I check that I've got everything I need for my classes tomorrow so I don't have to leave Edward longer than necessary. Just as I pull the door closed behind me and slip into the hallway, Emmett comes on the line.

"Hey, Baby Belle. What's going on with Eddie?"

"He's burning up. He said he thought he was getting a cold this morning, but this doesn't look like a cold."

"Okay, okay. Has he taken anything?"

"I just gave him a couple Advil. I'm headed back there now."

"Don't. You shouldn't risk exposing yourself. Listen, I'll head over to check on him. I've got this, Bella. Thanks for calling, and I'll update you later."

"Thanks, Emmett."

I ignore Emmett's advice and beat a hasty path to Edward's door and use his key to let myself in. Poor Edward is a writhing mass of misery. I feel completely powerless to help, and then I'm struck by a memory from my early childhood of a caring mother. I set my bag quietly on Jasper's bed and sift through Edward's things to locate a washcloth. Sneaking out softly, I wet the washcloth in cold water and wring it out thoroughly. Emmett's just about to knock when I return with the key.

"Here," I say.

"Bella," he half-growls. "Edward wouldn't want you getting sick. It'll only make him feel worse."

"You know I'm not going to leave, so let's just go in and help him. Okay?"

Clearly defeated, Emmett gallantly sweeps the door open and ushers me through. "Suit yourself, Stubbornella."

Emmett barges his way over to the bed and crosses his arms. "Edward, it's Emmett. Are you still in there?"

"Mmm," he moans, tipping slightly but not opening his eyes.

"Scale of 1 to 10, 10 being death's door, where are you?"

"Seven."

Emmett drops to his knees and adopts a more sympathetic tone. "Shit. Really? You feel that bad?"

"Mmm," he confirms.

"All right, hold on. I'm gonna page Dad." Emmett hits one key and seconds later, he's giving instructions to have Carlisle paged.

While he's waiting for his father to come on the line, Emmett whispers to me, "I've never heard him say higher than a five."

I approach Edward from the other side and gently dab the washcloth against his forehead. He opens his eyes a sliver and lets out a brand new moan. I snap back with the cloth in my hand, thinking I've made him more uncomfortable.

"Sorry," I say miserably.

He shakes his head a tiny bit and whispers, "Feels. Good."

His eyes open into sad little saucers when I place the cool cloth back on his head. His words are unconvincing when he says, "You should go."

I sit down gingerly so as not to rock him, and I say firmly, "I'm not leaving you until I have to go to class tomorrow morning. So let's not talk about that anymore. Okay?"

His eyes blink shut, then back open in grateful confirmation.

Meanwhile, Emmett's gotten his call back from Carlisle and he's listening carefully to instructions. After several okays and affirming grunts, he says, "Bella's insisting on staying with him….Okay, here."

Emmett stretches his arm over Edward and hands me the phone with a stern look.

"Hello?"

"Bella, it's Carlisle. How are you?"

"I'm okay, but Edward's a mess."

"So I hear. Listen, you _do_ realize he's most likely extremely contagious right now, and at a minimum, it sounds like he has a nasty virus. As a doctor, I would strongly advise you to not expose yourself further."

I hear what he's not saying, and I respond, "Thanks, Carlisle. Now, please tell me how to make him more comfortable."

Carlisle sighs, I believe with relief that his son will not be abandoned, and continues on in his doctorly voice to give me all kinds of instructions and warning signs to watch for.

"Dehydration is going to be your biggest concern. If he's not holding down at least eight ounces of fluid every couple hours, you and Emmett are going to need to take him to Student Health. Push the Advil every four to six hours, keep him covered through the chills. I'm afraid it could get worse before it gets better. You'll probably need a trash can close by, in case he needs to…"

"Barf?"

"Yeah. And Bella, wash your hands and keep as much distance as you can."

"Got it, Carlisle. Thank you."

"No, Bella. Thank YOU. Let me have your cell phone number and I'll check in with you later."

I give him my number and hand him back to Emmett, who 'okay's a few more times before clicking off.

"He said to try and convince you one more time-"

"Forget it, Emmett."

"Fine, then punch in your cell number, and I'll call you so you'll have mine. You don't have to go through Rose when you need me."

Emmett leans over his brother one more time and says, "You've got a pretty awesome girlfriend there, Eddie."

To which he replies, "Already. Figured. That. Out."

**^EPOV^**

The rest of Monday is a blur of fever, chills, dizziness, nausea, and the occasional cold compress on my forehead. I lose hours at a time, opening my eyes briefly to find that Bella's moved from my desk, to Jasper's bed, eventually changed into sweat pants, and finally, she sleeps.

Next time I wake, I'm shivering but burning hot, and my clothes are completely soaked in sweat. I take a sip of water from the nightstand and toss and turn for another 45 minutes. Mercifully, a deep sleep finally takes me over and I don't open my eyes again until the hazy winter sun beats through the thin shades.

"Hey," Bella smiles at me, dressed and ready to head out for class. "How ya doing this morning?"

"Jolly," I scrape out. My throat feels like a battleground, and every single muscle feels like my first week with Riley.

She moves to my side with Advil and water and places her cool hand on my forehead. My teeth chatter in response to the contrast. "Oh, Edward, you're still really hot."

I try my hardest to grin, "Thanks, baby. You're super hot, too."

"Okay. Humor. That's a good sign."

"Off to Poetry?"

"Yes, and then I'm going to hit your History of Jazz class."

"What?" I croak. "You're going to my classes?"

"Sure. I'm going to take notes for you."

"Are you serious? No. You don't have to do that, Bella. It's fine. I'll just make up the work later."

"Don't even try to talk me out of it. You know, I love listening to your Jazz. This way, I can talk to your professors for you and let them know why you're not in class."

"Bella, I don't know what to say." And I really don't.

"It's what awesome girlfriends do. See you later. Go back to sleep."

O)(O

The key jangling in the lock wakes me from my nap. I check the clock and notice it's already dark outside- _wow, where did this day go?_

"How's my favorite patient?"

"Lazy as hell. I've been sleeping all-," I'm hit by a wall of dizziness as I set my feet onto the floor and try to sit up.

"Edward, don't try to stand," she warns, grabbing me and lowering me back to the bed.

My stomach rolls with a wave of nausea and I grab the barrel. "This isn't going to be pretty," I moan, hoping with half my heart she'll leave me alone in my misery. But the other half, the really selfish part, is thrilled when she brushes my hair away from my sticky forehead and says, "Not going anywhere."

I don't have much in my stomach, but whatever I had forces its way out, and the rest is all dry, painful heaves. When I know there's nothing else coming, I set the trash can down and fall back onto my pillow.

"Well, that was sexy," I complain, throwing my arm over my face.

"Be right back," she says. Before I can stop her, she grabs the trash can and my key. Emmett is with her when she comes back.

"Eddie, how they hangin', bro?"

"Not."

"Listen," he says, sidling close to me so Bella can't hear. "Why don't you let me help you to the bathroom so your girlfriend doesn't have to deal with the nitty gritty."

"Em, I don't need to go. I'm fine."

"Dad says if you can't pee, I have to take you to the hospital. What's it gonna be?"

He's impossible to reason with. "Fine."

"Let me grab you some clean clothes. And some mouthwash!"

Emmett actually does an admirable job, practically carrying me to the bathroom, helping me with everything. He also threatens to burn my clothes.

"I'd love to hose you off in the shower. Could you stand it?"

Just thinking about standing under hot water makes my stomach lurch again. "Not today."

"All right, then. Just splash some cold water on your face and gargle a bit."

He helps me back into bed and talks softly on the other side of the room with Bella before leaving. Bella hands me more medicine and tucks me in for the night.

O)(O

My eyes open to 9:35 AM, and I reason that it's Wednesday, and she's missing Comp Sem. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be in class."

"What good is peer review with you stuck here in bed? We'll do it later if you feel better."

"What if I don't? You shouldn't get a zero just because I'm sick!"

"Edward," she says, pulling the desk chair over to my bed, "don't worry. Professor Banner said he'd do my pre-read on-line for me if you're not better by tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh," I say, feeling my lips form into a pout. "I guess that would be better for you anyways."

She puts her cool palm on my forehead. "No, it wouldn't. Nobody's better for me than you."

Just then, the doorknob rattles and in walks Jasper. "Don't mind me, just came back for my Statistics book. Christ, it smells like a vomitorium in here!"

"Thanks for your compassion, man," I snark.

"Oh, sorry. How are you today?" he says in passing, packing up a few large binders from his desk.

"Peachy. You?"

"I'm good and I'd like to keep it that way." With that, Jasper sweeps out of the room.

"He can be such a J-hole sometimes," Bella retorts.

That sets me off, and I clutch my stomach. "It hurts to laugh."

"Oh, you poor baby. Listen, here's your medicine. Your dad said to switch you to Tylenol if you haven't been eating. I have to go to class. I can't sit through Psychology for you because I have my literature class then, but I'll swing by the office hours and talk to your TA."

"God, Bella, are you for real?"

"Nope. Be good. Want anything from the caf?"

"I don't want anything from there on a good day."

**~BPOV~**

"Which sense did you pick?" he asks, perched up in the corner at the far edge of his bed.

"Hearing."

"Really? Why?"

"I think because music is so important to me. And also because if I had to choose between never reading or never hearing spoken words again, I could give up reading more easily."

He squints his eyes a bit, as if disbelieving. "So you'd give up being able to see me?" At this, he opens his arms and blanket wide, so I can get the full effect of seeing him, I suppose. Albeit, in his less than ideal physical state.

I catch the logo on his t-shirt for the first time. "Oh my God. It's the slogan from our green poem."

He looks down to remind himself what he's wearing. "Oh yeah. This one always cheers me up. I wear it a lot when I get sick, so everybody in my family hates it. But I love the big mess of smiling peas."

"It's so you, Edward."

"Don't try to change the subject, Bella. You were saying you could live without this view?"

"I would _hate_ that, especially since I'd know what I'd be missing! But you know, Edward, it was your written words that first attracted me to you."

The mute giraffe.

The playful grin on his face is washed away and he rewraps himself solemnly. "Wow, a girl who wants me for my words. There's a mind blower!"

"Speaking of words, Shakespeare, have you had a chance to think about what _you_ would choose?"

"You mean in between throwing up and sleeping?"

"Yeah," I answer, chuckling lightly. "All that free time you've got on your hands."

"I was thinking it would be touch."

"Uh-oh. Is this going to be a sexual thing?" My lips curl into a smile. Despite everything, he is still thinking about sex?

"Well, it certainly _could_ be. But that's not what I meant. Just about all I remember from yesterday is your hand on my forehead. It saved me. And right here, right now, all I want to do is curl up with you on this bed, in this blanket, and feel your body next to mine."

"Well, I don't think you should be writing about that! I mean, don't you think we've shared enough with Professor Banner?"

He chuckles a bit, "Definitely. I think I could keep it clean and still have plenty to write. I mean, how it feels to run your fingers through a dog's fur. Or feel the sand between your toes. Or, _yeah_, feel encased in a soft blanket."

"Sounds like an outline right there. Let me grab a notebook and jot down your ideas."

I hop off the bed and dig through my backpack for notebook and pen. "Okay, so dog's fur…"

Before I can even finish the thought, Edward is sound asleep, slumped into the corner, snoring softly. I rearrange him so he's lying comfortably and turn off the overhead light.

O)(O

Out of respect for Edward and the fear that Jasper might be half-dressed, I still knock lightly every time I'm about to use my key in their lock.

"Bella, hey!" Emmett greets me cheerfully. "Look who's up. It's the Creature from the Green Lagoon."

"Hilarious," grumbles Edward. He's sitting cross-legged on the bed, managing some ramen.

"Wow, you're eating solid food. Impressive," I say, dumping my bag and crossing over to Edward. My palm automatically goes to his forehead, then his cheek.

He captures my hand unexpectedly, and he holds it there. Cool against warm. He closes his eyes and says, "God, you don't know how great that feels on my skin, Bella."

I blush at Emmett's broad grin. "I'd tell you two to get a room, but I think I'm in it!"

"Hmm, you're a little scratchy these days," I observe, referring to his three days of growth.

"I believe Eddie's going to grace us after dinner by having a shower and shave today."

"Oh."

Edward looks up from his noodle bowl. "I thought you'd be a little more excited about that."

"I kinda like the scruffy look on you. Sexy," I add, much to Emmett's delight.

"Leave the razor behind, little bro."

Edward runs his hands over his cheeks and shrugs. "Works for me."

"Bella, why don't you give me about an hour to get him all fixed up for you, then you can have him back."

"All right, Emmett. Thanks." I stand and give Edward a kiss on top of his head. Yeah, a shower's a fine idea.

O)(O

"Does this mean you're not going to sleep with me tonight?" Edward pouts.

"Next time I sleep with you, I want us to be in the same bed."

"Well you're not going to get an argument out of me!" he winks.

"I can tell you're feeling better today. I'm so glad."

"Couldn't have done it without you. And you better not get sick!"

"I'm not sick. So, you think you're going to class tomorrow morning?"

"I don't know. Banner said I could email my paper over the weekend, so I may sleep in and just go to my Psych class."

"Okay, then I'll call you tomorrow afternoon. Sleep tight."

**^EPOV^**

I set my alarm for 8:15 after she leaves and climb under my covers for the first time all week. I don't remember another thing until I'm woken to the tunes of my last midterm. My throat still feels a little scratchy, but I'm sick and tired of lying in bed and missing everything. Missing Bella.

I shower and clean up, leaving my 'scruff' for Bella. I haven't gone without shaving since Senior Week, and it certainly speeds up my morning routine. I wonder how long she'll like this on me. It's certainly the least I can do after she took care of me all week. And I'm not just going to do the _least_ I can…

"Edward? What are you doing here?" Bella asks, taking her seat next to me.

"Why? Were you saving this for someone else?"

"Yeah, right. I thought you were sleeping in," she says accusingly.

I shrug. "I missed you."

"Nice to have you back," she smiles.

O)(O

By 3 pm, I'm completely exhausted. Meeting with all my teachers and learning what will be needed to catch up is plenty discouraging. However, I've kept up well to this point, so by mid-way through next week, I should be fine.

_E-Going to Riley's. I'll stop by after. xb_

_B-Don't slack off on those chin-ups just because I'm not watching. XE_

Workout Bella knocks on my door at 5:20 as predicted, and since she's returned my key, I actually have to get up this time to let her in.

"Want to grab some dinner?" she asks hopefully.

"Nah, I think I'm done for the day."

"Okay. Let me just go shower and I'll be back-"

"No, Bella. Go out. Have fun. It's Friday night."

"Seriously, Edward?"

"I'm just gonna go to sleep. No reason for you to ruin your whole night babysitting."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," I say, twisting her around to face the door and gently walking her forward. "Go. Live a little."

"Text me when you wake up tomorrow?"

"I promise."

**~BPOV~**

"Hey, come on, Bella, stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting, Rose." Okay, maybe I'm pouting a little.

"Hey, have you picked out your classes yet for next semester?" she diverts me.

"Working on it. Edward and I are signing up for History of Rock 'n' Roll together, and I've got the usual English requirements. You?"

Rose rolls her eyes epically. "Second semester Engineering is a bear. Statistics, Physics, Chem E Part 1…I told Emmett he better get it all out of his system now, because we're not gonna have any time for nooky once those classes start."

I practically spit my beer across the table. "First of all, _nooky_? And second, something tells me you two will find some way to fit it in, no matter what."

"Maybe," she brightens. "After all, he'll be a second semester senior, no more football practice, already applied to med school, so he should have plenty of time on his hands."

"You mean, plenty of you _in_ his hands."

Rose sighs heavily. "So how's Little Cullen doing?"

"He's starting to feel better, but he's just wiped out. Hopefully he'll get his strength back before classes on Monday."

"And how are things progressing with Edward…otherwise?"

"Real smooth, Rose. Why don't you just come out and ask what you want?"

"Fine. Have you two done the deed?"

"Really? Do people really talk like that?"

She harrumphs. "Come on, Bella, you know what I mean. Just spill."

"Is this going straight from my lips to Emmett's ears? Because I don't think Edward would appreciate that one bit."

"So the answer's no?"

"Either way, Edward wouldn't want Emmett to know about our…"

"Come on, B. You can say it."

"Fine. _Sex_ life."

"Attagirl! First step is admitting you know the words!"

"Ha ha. We're good right where we are. Edward's taking it slow for me."

"For _you_? You mean, you don't want him?"

"God, Rose, I so do. There's just something that happens when we kiss, and then his chest, and his hips, and his fingers, and his lips…"

"Yeah, Bella, those are the parts I DO get. So what's the problem?"

"Nothing. It's just, I feel like once we cross that final line, it's all downhill from there. There's nothing new to explore, nothing to look forward to."

Now, Rose does actually spit beer out of her mouth and across the table. At me.

"Oh my God, Bella. I'm sorry."

I sit back and cross my arms. I am not amused. "I hate it when you make fun of my inexperience."

Rose presses her hand on my folded arms. "I _am_ sorry. It's just, you seem to have this idea that there's one way to do this and then, the thrill is gone or something. It just doesn't work that way."

"No?" I have to admit, this is good news.

"No! Why do you think couples stay together for their whole lives? Who could stand it if the thrill was gone after the first time, or even the five hundred and first?"

"Beats me. If it was that much fun, why'd my mom leave?"

"Well, just because the sex _can_ be great doesn't mean it always _is._ And there are a few other issues to work out in order to make a marriage work."

"Apparently."

"But back to the sex…so, have you even seen _it_ yet?"

This conversation makes me a hundred kinds of awkward and uncomfortable, but Rose is my greatest source. I know she'll tell me anything.

"Not exactly."

"Well, what does that mean?" she giggles. "Either you have or you haven't."

"Not…unveiled."

"Ah. So, boxers?"

I nod.

"All right, all right, that's a good start. And you've touched it?"

"Only over the boxers," I mumble quickly.

"Okay. So you're familiar with the mechanics then?"

"Yeah, Rose," I give her an annoyed eye roll.

"And I know you've had _your_ little fun, so obviously, he's familiar with your equipment as well?"

"Yes, he's familiar."

"So just hands?"

"Yes, Rose. Gawwwd!"

"You know what's next, right?"

"I didn't know there were actually rules."

"Well," she explains, "not _rules_, but there are some basic trends that normally occur."

"You're really sounding like an engineer right now."

"Look, I know this is a hard conversation for you. We don't have to do this." She pauses to regard me carefully and continues, "You know, I was wrong about Edward, at first. When I worried he might be using you for help with his classes. I think you liked him before _his_ light bulb came on, but he was always a good guy."

"A Cullen," I smile.

"Exactly," and she acknowledges that by smiling in return. "And he was always a friend, and anyone can see how much he cares about you. Do you trust him, Bella?"

"I do," I answer without hesitation.

"Good. Then just go with it. I mean, always use protection, but just let him guide you. Whatever he's doing so far seems to be making you happy. It's certainly not a race."

I groan at how little we've been doing this week, then chide myself for my selfish moment. Poor guy's been vomiting and I'm complaining because I haven't gotten any action. Then another terrifying thought strikes, "What if I'm not…y'know, _satisfying_ him and he's afraid to tell me?"

Rose smiles. "Google."

"Google _what_?"

"Anything. Everything. Handjobs, blowjobs, intercourse, positions…Trust me, whatever kinky thing pops into your mind, there are 3,000 websites on the topic. Just make sure you delete your internet history when you're finished!"

"Hunh. Care to share?"

She swipes her hand in the air as if erasing a chalkboard. Or a memory. "No thank you. Hey, any more questions while I've got you semi-drunk?"

"What do you guys do for…protection?"

"Condoms." She says it so quickly, it's as if there were no other options. "No matter how much you want to trust him, don't leave that up to chance."

"But what about the pill?"

She shakes her head. "The pill is fine, for preventing pregnancy. _Most_ of the time. But listen, Bella, much as you don't want to think about where else he's been, you have to be honest with yourself. He's a hot guy who's admitted to going around the block and back, recently, at that. Don't risk it."

I slump back in my chair and grab my mug. That's Rosalie for you. Honest to a fault. No punches pulled. I swallow the bitter pill of her advice along with the flat suds from our pitcher. So much for the romance of the first time.

"Hey, don't take it so hard, Bella. I'm sure he wasn't expecting it any other way. It's just a fact of life. Like flossing."

"Great. Now I'm going to be picturing you flossing your teeth when he slips that on."

"Ew," she complains, crumbling into a lump of giggles on the table. "I'm going to be picturing his…when I floss my teeth!"

Her comment makes me grimace. "Anyways, I think this is all pretty far away. I mean, you know, we haven't even …._touched_ each other yet."

She smiles knowingly. "It kind of picks up speed like a steamroller toward the end, honey. Once the floodgates are opened, y'know?" She holds out her hands innocently, as if she has no control whatsoever over her own sex drive or the resulting actions.

"All right, Rose. Good talk. Thanks."

"Oh, Sweetie. You're so lucky you got me for a roommate!"

"I know that, Rose. You're the best."

"And I have to give you a little credit, too, for choosing a Cullen."

"We do have excellent taste in men, don't we?"

Rose lifts her mug and I clink it jovially.

**^EPOV^**

"Are you _sure_ you want to spend your Saturday night helping me with my homework?"

"Yes, Edward, for the thousandth time, I do. I want to be with you. I want to help you catch up. And I've missed you."

I can't help my grin as I pass her my Comp Sem notebook and a pen. "In that case, here's my outline."

"Wow. When did you do this?" she asks, impressed I think.

"Well, aside from the fact that I think about you touching me every night in my dreams, I put some daytime thought into the other parts this afternoon."

She regards my notes with trepidation that I may have told Banner more than she'd like. "Don't worry, Bella. I kept the best parts of you for myself." God it feels good to be able to flirt again and not feel like a giant ball of walking sick.

Bella's concentrating, and she's got the tip of the pen between her lips, and I know she doesn't mean to, but she's making me a little crazy the way she's twirling it all around. Up until the time I got sick, I was pretty spoiled with the frequency of our encounters. But six nights of drought for a college boy, I think you'd have to multiply that by like a factor of ten for a regular guy. That's sixty nights…holy shit, _two months_ without sex! No wonder that pen's making me nuts!

"…how sensing extreme temperatures can protect you. Edward?"

"Yeah, oh…yeah. Good idea. Just make a note."

Her eyes narrow into slits and I'm busted. "You weren't listening, were you?"

"I got a little distracted there for a minute. Sorry."

She lowers the notebook and says, "You know, you're not the only one who's been deprived this week."

My jaw drops down and it's gaping open until I remember to close it. She's still glaring at me with a challenging look, so I give her a tiny nod. "Duly noted."

"That's better. Now can we finish our work?"

"Sure, Bella."

I give her my complete attention for the rest of the night, and we ram through every subject until I'm completely caught up.

"I cannot believe we got through all that work! You're amazing, Bella."

"No, Edward. You did the work. I just helped keep you on track."

"I never would've been able to do that three months ago."

"Well, you're a different student now. More focused. More organized. Efficient."

"Holy shit! I think I've accidentally turned into a good student!"

She laughs, "You make it sound like a disease."

"That explains the fever and chills! Good studentitis."

"Okay, Johnny Drama. Time for bed."

"Oh, thank God. I thought you'd never ask."

Bella leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. "'Night, Sweetie."

"Wait. What? That's it?"

"Yes. For tonight. I want you 100% or I don't want you at all."

"Oh, that is so harsh, Bella."

She tucks me in but remains firm in her stance. I remain firm in my pants, so I guess we're even.

"Sweet dreams, Edward."

She was right about the dreams.

O)(O

_B-I'm 150% and can't wait to see you. Breakfast NOT in bed today? XE_

_E-Be right over! xb_

By the time I've finished stripping the bedsheets, Bella's knocking on the door. "You should probably tell Jas you're better."

"Why would I want to do _that_?"

She rolls her eyes. "Come on. I can't wait to see you eat something other than ramen."

**~BPOV~**

My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my pocket and check the display. The number is not stored in my contact list, but I recognize the area code. _714. _Orange, California.

"H'lo?"

"Hello, dear. It's Esme. How are you, Bella?"

"Oh, fine, Esme. You?"

"We're doing great. Listen, I wanted to call and thank you again for taking care of Edward. He said you were his own personal Florence Nightingale."

"You don't have to thank me, Esme. Besides, Carlisle's already-"

"Yes, I know, you two have been in constant touch. But this is Edward's mother saying, 'Thank you. For taking such good care of my baby.' I'm so far away."

I can hear the wistfulness in her voice, and I realize just how hard it must be for them. Edward's not one of those teenagers who put his parents through hell and they couldn't wait to push him out the door. He would be sorely missed.

"It was truly my pleasure. I know he'd do the same for me."

Esme laughs lightly. "Well, if he doesn't, you let me know!"

O)(O

"Edward, you're sure you want to come? I'm just going to noodle for a while. It's not gonna be like a concert or anything."

His forehead crumples, "You don't want me?"

"I always want you. I just think you'll be bored."

"I've been lying in my bed- _alone_- for practically a week. I promise, I won't be bored."

So, that's how two hours later, we find ourselves once again in the bowels of Thomas Hall, locked away in a soundproof room. I pull out my favorite pieces, one at a time. Warming up with some Bach Inventions, I then move through some Debussy, Satie, and finally, Joplin.

"Joplin!" Edward says excitedly, recognizing the _Maple Leaf Rag._

Sensing his excitement with that genre, I pull out a few Gershwin pieces. Edward is an appreciative audience. I feel renewed after two hours, and I'm just starting to pack up when he says, "Ready for _me_, now?"

His enthusiasm is palpable. I tap the bench and he's up like an excited puppy and taking his place next to me.

"Okay, so, you remember how to find 'C'?"

"Bella," he scolds, "I got this. You just worry about _your_ part."

Sure enough, he taps out the bass line flawlessly, as if he'd practiced every day since I taught him. I'm so impressed, I miss my cue the first time through.

He stops and clears his throat theatrically. "Would you like to try that again?" he teases.

I give him a playful nudge with my elbow and he patiently plays the intro again. When I join him at the proper moment, he gives me some over-exaggerated encouragement. I shake my head at his antics. It feels so great to have him back in all his glory. To be _us_ again.

We both finally tire of the endless loop of _Heart & Soul _and we're hungry for dinner. But Edward traps me on the bench with his arm hooked around my waist.

"Bella, I took my temperature earlier, and I'm a perfect 98.6."

"Oh yeah? You have your own thermometer?"

He shrugs unapologetically. "Dad's a doctor and Mom's a mom. I just wanted to be sure first."

"First?"

"Before I kissed you again. I wanted to make sure I was perfect again."

"_Again? _Cocky much?"

"Just when it comes to you," he says, lifting his hand to the back of my neck. "So, would it be okay if I kiss you now?"

I know he'll back off if I ask him to, but why would anyone in her right mind refuse him? "I think that would be all right," I try to say calmly, my increasing heartbeat threatening to expose me.

"Oh, thank God. Gimme, Bella. Gimme. Gimme!" His fingers tighten around my hair and he pulls me in desperately, opening his lips to meet mine. The first taste of Edward is both comfortingly familiar and entirely new.

We're seated next to each other on a hard wooden bench, and our necks and torsos are torqued unnaturally. But I can't remember any of that while he's kissing me. Edward's kisses are brain numbing. His other hand comes around my back and he's pulling me closer. We're locked together from hip to knee, and we're getting ourselves worked up into a fine lather.

Suddenly, a sharp banging on the insulated glass shuts us down. A fierce-looking student (well, as fierce as a Music Major could get) eyes us with total disgust and points to his watch angrily.

While I gather in my mortification, Edward chuckles lightly and says, "To be continued."

**^EPOV^**

Normal temperature or not, I am cautious in my food choices at the caf. On a good day, eating there is perilous, and I don't want anything to spoil tonight. We've both been waiting too long.

My eyes flick over to Bella, and she's poking her salad anxiously. "Something wrong?"

"No," she says immediately, then reconsiders. "I think I'm nervous."

"'Bout what?" I replay our conversations of the day to see if I've missed something about a major exam or paper due, but I come up empty.

"I guess the…'to be continued'."

I set down my fork in disbelief. "You're nervous over _me_?"

She cringes to see she's upset me. "It's just been a while, ya know?"

"Pshhhh. Yeah, Bella. I'm aware."

Bella leans forward and whispers, "Edward, I want …stuff."

Holy hell. _Check, please?_

I remain as calm as a young man could under the circumstances and brush my thumb along her cheek. "I want stuff, too."

"Did you get enough to eat?"

"Yeah, I'm full," I lie. Who cares about food at a time like this? I pop out of my chair, nearly upending it. I grab both our trays and head to the bus window. Checking that she's keeping up with my increased pace, I grab her hand and pull her toward the door, only letting go so that we can wrap our coats around us. I can just hear my mother's voice, "Edward, you just got over the flu!"

I shake away dear old Mom, because while I love her, I can't have her in my head right now.

"How about my room for a change?" she asks hopefully. Neither of us wants to return to the hospital ward my room has become.

"Give me a sec…"

_E-Got Rose? We need Bella's. _

_Eddie, she's here w me. Go ahead and get nasty ;)_

"All clear," I report.

O)(O

Coats are discarded just inside the door. Sweaters next. Boots kicked to the side. Bella dives onto the bed, and I follow gleefully, landing right next to her and crushing the wafer-thin mattress beyond its capabilities.

Bella rolls on top of me and slides her fingers into my hair, which feels like heaven, especially when she scratches at my scalp. "Dang, I should've written about _that_ in my paper," I muse.

"Stop." _Kiss_. "Thinking." _Kiss_. "About." _Kiss_. "Papers." _Kiss_. "While your girlfriend is kissing you!" _Kisssss._

My hands are running up and down her back, up her sides, over her ass, rubbing and touching everything in range. Bella growls and rears up onto her knees. She takes the hem of her shirt in hand and hastily pulls it up and over her head. Before I can even process the fact that her push-up bra is in my face, she's sliding my shirt up and off, too. She runs her hands lovingly from my shoulders down over my chest, around and around my ribcage, across my stomach and pushes at my jeans. Without taking her eyes off mine, she unbuttons and unzips my pants. She shimmies between my legs so that she's out of her own way as she drags down my jeans. I lift slightly as the pants clear my hips and thighs. She leaves me just like that and reaches for her own button now. In a daring move that I wouldn't recommend trying on a cheap college bunk, she stands and efficiently removes her jeans in one swift move, stepping out of the legs. She's towering over me in her royal blue satin Victoria's Secret bikinis and bra, and she's all business.

I scissor my legs until I've finally freed myself of my pants entirely, and I pull off my socks. Because nothing kills sexy like a pair of white socks. Bella reaches behind her back to undo her bra, and I grab her elbow and ask, "Hey, could I have a turn, please?"

Smiling, she drops to her knees and falls forward onto her palms, just above my shoulders. She leans her mouth in and gives me a soft, slow kiss while I reach behind and handle the gadgetry. Once the bra's unhooked, I take my time teasing the skin underneath, drawing my fingers underneath the cups at the front until she's moaning and writhing. I lift the cups out of my way and reach to take one breast into my mouth, occupying the other with my hand. Her nipples are on full alert, and I love her response when I pinch or tease them with my teeth. I finally rid her of the bra entirely, flinging that to the floor with the rest. I celebrate her toplessness by nipping and licking and sucking some more.

Meanwhile, things are heating up down below.

**~BPOV~**

I think Edward's about to make me come without even touching me below my chest. Well, he's not touching me with his hands, but other parts of his body are keeping me company down there. I tip my head so I can watch the intensity of the way he's caring for my body. He's gentle and rough all at once, fast and slow, hot and cold. I think I might burst at the opposites.

But this time, I'm ready for more. And I'm stone cold sober and so deliriously dizzy for him. I pull my chest away from his mouth and replace it with my lips on his, a parting kiss. And then, I make my way slowly down his chin, his neck, his chest. Well, I do get stuck on the chest for a while. His tiny nipples stand up with excitement and he groans out loud when I bite him ever so gently. I allow my fingertips to trail down his sides while my lips continue their journey, lovingly stopping at every can in the eight-pack, lavishing each with all the care I can muster. And then, I'm at the boxers.

And I'm so done with those boxers. I slide my right index finger just under the waistband and watch his eyes bug out. I move the tip of my finger along his skin, and my knuckle brushes along the rocky terrain. Edward gasps as I make first contact with the tip, and I'm careful not to scratch the delicate skin. I am a good student, after all. And delicacy seemed to be the running theme of Penis Training.

I hook one finger just under the waistband at each hip and start to cautiously roll down his boxers. Edward reaches for my wrist at the same time he captures my eyes. "Bella?"

"Edward." I'm so sure of this now. "I _want_ stuff."

He moves his fingers down my hand to tangle in my fingers. "I want stuff too, Bella." And then he lets go, placing his hands against the bed at his sides. This is my show now.

I get back to the task of unveiling him, one inch at a time, being careful to lift out and over the obstacle blocking my path. Edward looks so intense right now, watching me looking at him as if everything depends on this. As I free him from the fabric cage and slide the briefs down his legs, I regard his bare body with a sense of awe. He's built like a beautiful marble statue, truly a chiseled piece of art. Now that I see the whole of him, I can appreciate his undeniable perfection.

I sit back on my heels and place a hand over each of Edward's ankles, slowly working my palms up to his calves, knees and thighs, appreciating every inch of him. And scooting forward now between his knees, I settle in to learn about this part of Edward that is capable of bringing him so much pleasure. Eventually, I know I, too, will be the lucky recipient of its magical powers, but this is about Edward.

I lightly brush my hand down the length of him, marveling at the variety of textures, the silky softness of the outer layer, stretched tightly over the sturdy form below. I wouldn't go swooning over this and call it pretty, with its bumpy veins and purplish ridges, wouldn't go so far as to say I ache to take it into my mouth. In fact, the very idea of that scares me more than I like to admit. But I'm fascinated with the way it comes to life in my hand. It reaches to greet me and looks pouty when I finish my first pass.

The miracle of Edward's penis is what happens to the rest of him when I touch it. His mouth forms a perfect 'o' and the sweetest of all breathy moans escapes him. I have to see this again, immediately. Repeating my motion, I brush my palm from tip to balls, just a little bit more firmly this time. His moan is that much deeper, that much needier, that much more appreciative for my ministrations. When I reach for a third time, his hips lift off the bed to meet my hand. I linger at the top, giving him a little extra squeeze, before cupping my fingers around his whole girth and following his length down.

"Fuuuuuuuck, Bella." His eyes plead with me for more, and I'm already addicted to the power I'm afforded. _Control the penis, control the Edward_.

If one hand feels good, two must be divine, I reason, and I alternate and experiment, switching from soft and slow to harder and faster. Edward's eyes have rolled up to the ceiling, and his hips are not only bobbing up and down with me, but around in small circles, trying to work themselves into a steady growing rhythm. Working to remember all the details he told me last week, I remember that he does like attention to his balls, but much more gentle than the rest. So I leave one hand there to explore and the other focuses on a steady motion of up and down. I can tell what he likes the moment I do it, and I do more of what he's responding to.

I have an unwelcome flash from Edward's Psych I flashcards about operant conditioning. It seems Edward is effectively training me to do exactly what he likes by providing an outcome that pleases me no end. I'm more than happy to oblige.

Edward starts moving faster and his hands reach up to caress my breasts. His head is rolling back and forth on the pillow, and he's mumbling my name and incoherent bursts of sound. Suddenly, he looks right at me and says, "Here it comes, Baby. Oh God, I'm coming!" I watch with great curiosity as his balls tighten and then push forth gushes of milky liquid. I'm not sure what to do at this point, and I'm afraid I might hurt him, so I lift up my hands.

Edward grabs my hands and replaces them in a panic and says, "Christ, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop now!"

**^EPOV^**

My arm flops over my eyes and I literally see tiny sparkly yellow stars circling above. My breathing struggles to return to normal while my heart rate slows. And then I'm aware of her eyes on me and I lift up my arm to see her reaction. She has a huge shit-eating grin on her face, which is soon matched by one on mine.

"So…" she starts playfully.

"So…"

"That was pretty fun."

"Mmm hmm."

"I think I like my new toy very much."

"Pretty sure he likes you too, Baby."

"Oh yes? Is that how he greets all his new friends?"

"No, just the naked ones."

"Hey," she says indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Bella, can you grab me a towel please so I don't mess up your bed?"

She backs away from me and off the bed. My eyes trail after her very scantily clad body. She returns quickly with a hand towel, and I do swift damage control. She sidles up next to me on her side, pressing herself against me and trailing a finger across my chest.

"Edward, you seriously look like something a sculptor crafted."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," I chuckle.

She tweaks my nipple and I growl. "So, was that very scary for you? You know, face to face with the beast for the first time?"

"God, yes. He is so ferocious! And then at the end, when he started breathing fire, it was like, 'Take cover!'"

"You're not freaked out then?"

"No, Edward. I mean it. You're kinda perfect."

"No, Bella. You're perfect. I mean, first you're nursing me back to health and then you're treating me to the best handjob-"

"Okay, okay, I think we get it. Glad you enjoyed."

"I did. Very much." I pull her in for a grateful kiss.

"Thank-you-for-the-handjob kiss?" she asks.

I chuckle again, "Something like that. Now, how about the stuff _I_ want?"

"Wait, what? Now?"

"Yes, Sweetheart. That's usually how it works. One for me, one for you…though truth be told, I'd much rather yours went first."

"Ever the gentleman. Wouldn't your mother be proud?"

"Oh, Bella, please do not invoke the mother while we're lying here naked."

"Only one of us is naked."

"Yes, I noticed that right away. Big problem by the way. Now come on, it's your turn."

I pat the pillow and she scoots nervously up and flops onto her back. I straddle her thighs with my knees and hope the continuing nudity won't freak her out, especially after I've got her fully uncovered. I mimic the movement she used in pulling off my boxers, slowly but surely revealing her best-kept secret.

As I roll down her panties, I keep one eye on her face. She's turning bright red now and she can't look at me. I stop right where I am and tip forward so that I can give her a reassuring kiss. "You're beautiful, baby. And I'm going to make you feel so good."

She squeaks a little, causing me to laugh. I've reached her triangle, and it looks like she might have gotten some coaching from her roommate. Because she's trim and neat, but she's not Penthouse centerfold. In a word, she's perfect. I keep pulling, and she finally lifts to help. I allow one finger to trail down the middle while I uncover her, and she squeals as my finger reaches her slit. Her very, very wet slit.

She makes the most satisfying, breathy, "Ahhhhh," and I'm so pleased I've relaxed her while the panties come all the way off. Her legs are clenched pretty tightly together, but I can work with that. She's looking anywhere but at me. "Bella, close your eyes."

She does better than that and pulls the spare pillow over her face, muffling her breathing as well. With her shame factor somewhat reduced, I set my knees inside her thighs and allow her legs to open a little more for me. She's so responsive to my touch, I can't help but run my finger down her middle several more times, watching the droplets of moisture pool. She's squirmy and looking for more friction. I oblige with both hands working in tandem, brushing from above, stroking from below. The slippery surface creates a slick path for my fingers. I coax her open and slide in a finger, then two, still holding one hand flat against her abdomen but circling her clit with my thumb. Her panting picks up, her hips buck wildly, and she pulls the pillow flat against her face with both hands.

A tiny touch more pressure, and she's gone. I stroke her gently and watch in utter fascination as her muscles clamp and open, producing the high of her orgasm.

I see signs of life under the pillow, and she finally moves it aside to breathe. I run my fingers over her skin, continuing to stroke her and reaching to caress her breasts. She takes a giant breath and then blows it out with a high, happy sigh. The happiest noise I've ever heard her make. I'm a giant inside to know that I have done this for her.

I slip to her side and brush her hair out of her face. She turns her face to mine and kisses me gratefully. "Thank you for all that good stuff."


	16. Disney Movie

**A/N**: Extra credit in Banner's class if you take a look or listen to these songs on YouTube while reading! Special welcome to all you new readers who saw this story rec'd on Fictionators Fridays last week! And of course, loads of love to all my regulars, too! ~BOH

* * *

><p><strong><strong>1212/2011****

**~BPOV~**

"Not one person chose taste, which I guess doesn't surprise me," Professor Banner muses. "But think about that today while you're eating lunch or having your next ice cream cone. I've compiled some of the interesting ideas, and I'm handing them out for you to look over later, but there's something else I want to do today in class. Take a few minutes to review these and then we'll get started."

Edward's already read his comments and he's holding his paper out to me with a smirk. I haven't looked at mine yet, but I trade him anyways.

'_So glad you've made a full recovery. You make a powerful argument for the sense of touch, bringing in both the pleasure of a soothing touch and the necessity of our body's somatic system to provide the first barrier against danger. Kudos for choosing a lesser considered sense, and I appreciate your keeping things clean, Mr. Cullen. A'_

"Aw, Edward, that's so cute. He missed you."

"I think you have a fan as well," he says, handing me back my paper with a flourish.

'_I admire your unflinching dedication to your writing partner, Miss Swan. Apparently, you possess the healing touch. I, too, am a fan of the spoken word. I like how you brought your love for music and your love for words together. A'_

"If everyone's ready, I'd like to take a look at this cel from an animated movie." He darkens the room and projects a picture of the Beast barking orders at Belle in one of the early scenes of Beauty and the Beast. "Tell me what you see."

"He's big and ugly …"

"He's scary and hairy…"

He lets us all throw out comments for a few minutes and then asks us to stop and ask ourselves what _exactly_ it is about him that's ugly.

"So, your mind is picking up each detail –ferocious teeth, dominant pose, sharp claws, etc.- and drawing conclusions. Now obviously, Disney studios makes its fortune off understanding our visceral responses to each of these attributes, but there's no reason each of you can't capitalize on that in your own writing. You want to create a villain? Think about what it is about this beast that makes you want to run behind the nearest sofa."

Professor Banner then places the picture of the Prince that the beast later becomes right next to the first picture. The contrast is startling, which is, of course, the point.

"What do you see in this prince that makes him preferable?"

We point out his perfect teeth, soft expression, sparkly eyes, angular jaw…hmmm, come to think of it, he looks an awful lot like the guy sitting next to me.

"Okay, good observations. Now, if I were to add music, there would be yet another dimension. We obviously can't write a musical background into the written word, but we can set the scene with background, pace, tone, word choice, etc. And one advantage the author always has is perfect insight into his character's thoughts.

"So, this week's assignment is to pick your favorite Disney animated movie and describe in great detail what it is about this movie that…well, _moves_ you. Tell me about the visual, the colors, the music, the voices, the dialogue. What is it about the plot that made you select this film? Where were you in your life when you first saw this movie? This is the last real paper, so it's going to be a whopper, 2500 words. And just remember, there's no final for Comp Sem. Those of you who need to pull up your grade may count your grade as two assignments. For the rest, let's finish in style, guys. No slacking, please. You're all better than that. Go, and remember to take good care of yourselves as you head into finals. Plenty of sleep, eat right, ease up on the mood-altering substances and study aids. That's the longest lecture I've given all semester. WHEW!"

Edward grins as he slides his notebook into his backpack. "I feel like he just channeled both my parents."

"Speaking of taking care of ourselves, are you up for Riley today?"

"Definitely. That week in bed is really going to set me back," he laments.

"Yeah, you're getting pretty flabby. I noticed that last night," I tease.

**^EPOV^**

"I think the only rational way to do this is to have a back-to-back Disney animation date tomorrow night," I suggest on the way back from our workout.

"I'll bring the microwave popcorn," Bella offers. "Do you already know which movie you're doing?"

"Mmm hmmm."

"Oh, okay. You want to be mysterious?"

"I think it'll be more fun if it's a surprise. Why don't we hit the caf at 6 and try to get the first movie going in my room by 7?"

"Fine, but this doesn't count for dinner and a movie. This is _homework_," Bella adds a touch of petulance.

"Okay, Baby, I get it. I owe you a real date," I promise, pulling her in for a kiss.

O)(O

"Should we do yours first?"

"Okay. Would you care to make any guesses before I tell you?" she offers, knowing how much I love games.

My face splits into a broad smile. "Okay, I'm going to rule out all those sappy princess movies where the girl is rescued by a handsome prince." I look at her carefully to see if she gives anything away. Nada. "Am I right so far?"

She shrugs unhelpfully, pulling her poker face down to mask her true feelings.

"And I'm thinking we can also eliminate anything where the main characters are animals- definitely not Mickey Mouse or Bambi. Oh but wait, _Lady and the Tramp_ was awesome…no, I don't think that's it."

She still gives nothing away, but her mouth curls up the slightest bit at the corners.

I continue, "Oh shoot, that leaves out _The Jungle Book_ and all the _Winnie the Pooh_ movies…nah, too sappy." My girl doesn't seem the sappy type. I rack my brain for strong female leads. Hmmm, Princess Jasmine first falls for Aladdin in the marketplace as he's caught stealing. She intercedes on his behalf and saves his life, only to be told he's already been executed. Later, he pretends to be a prince and woos her with his magic carpet. She eventually learns his true identity, and of course they end up happily ever after.

"Hmm, _Aladdin_ is a definite contender…wait, don't tell me!"

Oh, but what about _Pocahontas_? According to the Disney version, this daughter of the Chief- _THE CHIEF!_- steps in the middle of the conflict between the Native Americans and the British explorers who threaten their native land. There's no happy sappy ending here. Ding, ding, ding. I believe we have a winner, folks!

"I'm going with _Pocahontas_."

Her mouth drops open and she wails, "How on earth did you do that, Edward?"

"I was just thinking about who you are. There's no mother in that movie. It's just Pocahontas and her dad, the Chief of the tribe."

"Yeah, I always loved that Chief thing," she smiles.

I nod. "This Disney princess does not need to be saved. In fact, she is the one to mend the fences between the two warring factions. You never needed a prince to rescue you; you did it for yourself. In fact, if anyone is to get the credit for pushing you in the right direction and really finding yourself, it was actually that douchebag James! If he hadn't been a completely slimy scumball, you might not have found the motivation to reach out to Rosalie for help. But he's certainly no prince!"

Bella laughs, "He's not even a frog!"

"And something tells me that the standard happy ending just doesn't ring true for you, and Pocahontas doesn't get the typical happy ending, wrapped in the arms of the prince."

"No, he leaves on a stretcher in dire straits."

"And I know you love the music. Come on, 'Colors of the Wind', 'Just Around the Riverbend'?"

"Okay, you got me. Can we watch now?" She rolls her eyes in mock irritation that I've read her like an open book.

"Sure, B. Here, just let me pull it up." I navigate to disneymovies dot com, load in the movie, and settle the laptop on a stack of books at the foot of the bed. Bella, the popcorn, and I snuggle into propped up pillows. She has her notebook at the ready. I hold the bag of popcorn so she can take notes, and we both shout out observations as the movie plays. We sing the songs like two silly freaks. I don't tease her at the end when she has a tear in her eye.

In fact, I pull her in for a kiss because she is so damn adorable, she cries at Pocahontas.

"Which song is your favorite?" I ask, guessing maybe it's the idea of finding her dreams just beyond the riverbend that's intrigued her about the story. I know she didn't venture much outside of the suburbs of Boston growing up, but she's never expressed a burning need to travel and see the world.

"Actually, it's just that small bit about listening with your heart," she says, breaking into song.

_"Listen with your heart, you will understand.  
><em>_Let it break upon you like waves upon the sand  
><em>_Listen with your heart, you will understand."_

"Yeah, that is a beautiful melody. That must be the musician in you responding to love."

**~BPOV~**

Love? Edward and I haven't talked about love since our Super Powers papers two months ago. It's not like he's talking about us; this is just hypothetical, theoretical love.

"I guess it is love, on a really basic human level. Like it's a natural by-product of understanding someone else."

"That's really hopeful," he says. "I guess what it means is that you can make a real human connection with anyone, even someone who appears to be your enemy, if you're willing to make the effort."

I take the empty popcorn bag from his hand, crumple it up, and toss it toward the trash barrel. "Sounds like a lot of work, doesn't it?"

"Sure, Bella, but think of the implications of that. We're talking lasting peace with your fellow man. On a worldwide scale, no make that _intergalactic_!"

"Wait, now you're doing _Avatar_, and that's not a Disney movie!"

"I vote for a study break in between movies. What do you say?" He rolls his body on top of me and starts kissing me.

Suddenly, the door bangs open and Alice and Jasper fall into a heap of tangled limbs on the floor. Edward pops up to check out the intrusion. "What the-"

"Oh hey, guys!" says Jasper, seemingly unbothered that they have witnesses to their shameless display. "What are you guys doing here on a Tuesday night?"

"I live here, dumbass," Edward answers.

Alice pulls herself up from the floor and says, "Hi, Bella, Edward. What are you guys-?"

Her eyes alight on the frozen ending credits screen for _Pocahontas_, and then they click back to us. "Okay…that's kind of weird. Was that like a porno version or something?"

Edward knocks the laptop closed with his foot. "No, Alice. We're just taking a study break. Do you mind?"

"Not at all." She hops up on the bed next to Bella. "I'm glad you guys are here. I want to invite you to a party I'm hosting for Jazzie's birthday this Saturday night."

"I thought you told me you were born on New Year's Eve," Edward says to Jasper.

"I was," Jasper says, pushing himself up off the floor and dusting off his knees, "but we're not going to be together for it, so Alice has decided we need to celebrate it this weekend instead."

Edward chuckles at the whole situation while I dig for some details. "What did you have in mind, Alice?"

"It's karaoke night at the Student Union. I thought we could all make an appearance and maybe perform a number or two?"

Edward pipes in again, "That is going to require some serious tequila."

"I have to agree, Alice. No way I'm getting up there stone cold sober."

Jasper adds, "We thought maybe Emmett would be so kind…"

Edward nods, "Drinks are on me. Let's meet here and gather some liquid courage, toast Jasper's girlfriend-declared birthday, and head over together."

"Duardo, you guys going to be here a while?"

"Yeah, Jas, we've got another movie to watch for our class."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Your homework is watching Disney movies and making out? How did I not get Banner for Comp Sem? You guys are so lucky it's ridiculous! Come on, Alice. I can't stand the injustice of the situation for another minute."

They leave to the soundtrack of Jasper's mutterings and when the door finally closes behind them, Edward shakes his head and says, "I cannot believe I just signed up for another year of living with that guy. I think he's getting crazier."

"I think they're cute."

"No, Bella. _You're_ cute. Now where were we?" He pulls me down again on top of his hard body, but I've snuck a glance at the alarm clock and it's already after 9.

I push myself off his chest, "Come on, Edward, it's your turn now."

"I know. I'm taking my turn right now." He pulls me back down and flips us over so I'm trapped under his body. For a moment, I almost forget why I was resisting, but eventually, I fight him off again.

Finally, he gives in and reaches for the computer. "All right, all right." He sets it all up, but hides the screen from me. "Wanna guess mine?"

**^EPOV^**

"Sure…," she says uncertainly. "I don't really know the boy movies. Is it _Lion King_?"

"Nah, too dark," I say dismissively.

"Okay, something brighter then. _Aladdin_? That genie was a lot of fun!"

"Nope."

"I got it! _Toy Story_! Every little boy loved that one."

"I thought of that, but nope. It actually kind of freaked me out that his toys would be moving around and singing in his room every time he left."

"Okay, I know, _Little Mermaid_?"

"Very funny," I say, running one finger up the middle of her right foot. She squirms deliciously.

"_Bambi_?"

"No, Bella," I say, grabbing her other foot now and tickling it as well. "Come on, try harder."

"_A Goofy Movie. 101 Dalmations! Fox and the Hound, Mulan, Tarzan_?"

I'm gripping her tightly now and running my knuckles lightly up and down her soles. She's wriggling all over the place. "Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope!"

"Stop! I can't take it anymore!" she squeals breathlessly, and I finally relent. "I give up. What is it?"

I turn the computer screen toward her and she looks at it suspiciously. "_Hercules_? That's a Disney movie?"

"Are you kidding me? Best Disney movie of all time! It's got everything! Greek mythology, bad guys, fighting, mystery, love, great music, an awesome hero, a flying horse….come on, you'll see."

O)(O

I'm only watching the movie with one eye, and the other stays on Bella. For some reason, I really want her to love this movie.

I've seen the movie at least fifty times, but certainly not lately. Still, it's Bella who has the insights that really surprise me. When the newly mortal Hercules is sent to live with human parents, Bella comments off-handedly, "It's Superman's story."

I watch the gawky teenager Hercules with new eyes, focusing on his too-tall body, too-large hands and feet, and total lack of coordination. When Hercules finally makes the trek to find his true path, I hum along to "I Can Go the Distance," knowing I'll have the song in my head for at least two weeks, especially the end, where he sings, "I know every mile will be worth my while, I would go most anywhere to find where I belong."

I watch the familiar scenes where Hercules grows 'from zero to hero' and bounce along with the music, which earns me a grin from Bella, but I can't help myself. I note that adult Hercules grows into a perfectly proportioned athlete- massive pecs and biceps, perfect reddish-brown hair like mine, a regal, straight nose, almost feminine lips, and large blue eyes. His teeth are perfectly white and straight as piano keys, and there's always that cartoon sparkle whenever he smiles, which is quite often.

Bella doesn't disappoint, laughing in all the right places, at the antics of Phil, the satyr/personal trainer, played by Danny DeVito. "Oh wow, it's Riley!"

"Oh, I cannot wait to tell him you just said that," I laugh.

She watches with full attention when Hercules is denied his immortality by his father Zeus, who tells him, "Being famous isn't the same as being a hero," and to "look into his heart". I notice her scribbling in the notebook, and when I peek, I see she's equated that line with the, "Listen with your heart" from Pocahontas.

When Bella learns that Megara is working secretly for Hades, albeit against her will, she shoots me a look of compassion, as if it is I who have been betrayed. And of course, she makes all the right noises and facial expressions when Meg gets mortally wounded saving Hercules, and when he dives into the River of Styx to take back her soul, even at the risk of his own death.

But she doesn't cry until Megara wakes from her death, blinks those smoldery eyes up at him and says, "Wonder Boy, why did you…?" I recite his answer along with him, "People always do crazy things when they're in love."

"Oh my God, this movie is ridiculously good!"

"Wait, shhh, Bella, you've got to hear what his father says right here."

I deepen my voice to approximate the mighty Zeus, "Hercules, we're so proud of you…for a true hero isn't measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart." I don't tell her that Emmett used to torture me by saying that a true hero is measured by the size of his dick.

And of course, I deliver Hercules' answer when he's finally invited to live on Mount Olympus, "I wish to stay on earth with her. I finally know where I belong."

**~BPOV~**

"Oh, look how she draws him in for a kiss with that tiny little hand on his neck! That is so adorable! Oh, God, Edward. You were right. I think this might be my favorite movie now, too!"

He is beaming from ear to ear as he dances around to the final rendition of "A Star Is Born."

"You're lucky Jas didn't walk in on this! He'd never let you live it down."

Edward grabs me and spins me on the makeshift dance floor. He knows every word by heart.

_"He's a hero who can please the crowd…a star is born.  
><em>_Come on everybody, shout out loud... a star is born.  
><em>_Just remember in the darkest hour  
><em>_Within your heart's the power  
><em>_For makin' you a hero, too._

_So don't lose hope when you're forlorn.  
><em>_Just keep your eyes upon the skies.  
><em>_Every night a star is-  
><em>_Right in sight a star is-  
><em>_Burning bright a star is born."_

We fall, exhausted and giggly onto his bed. He loops his arm behind me and my eyes close against my will.

"I should go, Edward."

"Wait, Bella, I just realized something. I don't have a clue when your birthday is. I mean, what if I've already missed it? That would be like the lamest boyfriend move ever!"

"No, it wouldn't, 'cause I never told you. Lame would be not remembering our first date."

"Bella, I'm never gonna forget any part of our first date. Riding to the concert, wrapping you up inside the green blankets, kissing you under the stars…"

"And the date, Edward?"

He shrugs. "October 28th," he says, as if I've missed the whole point.

"Damn, Edward. Your parents did a really good job raising you, y'know that?"

"I'll let them know next time I see them."

"Ugh, don't remind me. Ten whole days without you. Opposite ends of the country."

"Hey," he kisses me. "Don't. We'll figure something out. Email, Scype, video chat…something."

"It's not the same, Edward," I whine. "I can't do this through the computer," I say, reaching out and stroking him over his denim fly.

"Hey, little one, don't start something you don't intend to finish," he chuckles.

"Sorry," I say, pulling back. "I really _am_ tired."

"Well, it was an exciting day for you. You got to meet Hercules for the first time."

"I swear, Edward, sometimes when I look in your eyes, I can see the little 8-year-old boy just below the surface."

He chuckles deeply and says, "That was not the 8-year-old boy you just had your hand on, Sweetheart."

"It's hot, you know. All this…cross over."

"All right. That's it," he growls. "If you don't get up right now, I'm keeping you here all night."

I start to push myself up reluctantly, but he pulls me back against his body. "Mmm mmm. Wrong decision."

"Hey, that's coercion."

"No. Your hand on my dick is coercion. This is _persuasion_."

"Oh," I laugh. "Look at you and your new college vocabulary. Very fancy, Cullen."

"Okay, seriously, Bella. You have to leave right now."

I try to escape his arms, but he's holding me tightly. I finally give in and shake my head at him. "I just don't see Hercules pulling a stunt like this somehow."

"Babe, the hero always does what he has to in order to get the girl."

O)(O

"April 9th, by the way," I say, during a pause in our make-out session.

"Oh my God, an older woman! This is horrible news!"

"Oh get over yourself. When's yours?"

"May 13th."

**^EPOV^**

As we put our heads together for peer review, I have to admit that most of the written notes are Bella's, but that doesn't mean my contributions aren't also included. We sit and piece together an outline for Bella first. She adds some details about Pocahontas's physical appearance not being the typical beautiful blond American ideal, but more of a sturdy, earthy woman.

"I just realized something, Bella. There isn't really a classic villain in that movie. There's the governor, but he's not really evil enough to count."

"I've read that prejudice is meant to be the unspoken villain. It's not as black and white as most of the other movies."

"And yet another reason you love the movie."

"Probably," she shrugs. "I have plenty here, let's do you."

We pull together the notes on Hercules, and I see the themes emerging and falling into place. "So there's the overall theme, which is what really captured my attention as a young boy. I was such a scrawny, lanky kid. I used to trip over my feet all the time, not kidding."

"I just remembered something, Edward," she says. When I look over at Bella, she has a faraway look in her eyes. "You know that picture you showed me of your first father-son golf tournament?"

"Sure."

"I remember when I first saw it, I was thinking that there was this great-looking man inside that little boy. You were like a German shepherd puppy with those huge paws, and the rest of your body was just waiting to grow into them."

I snort. "I'm wondering if I should be offended you just compared me to a dog."

"You should not be offended. You have grown into a magnificent physical specimen. Not that I believe you ever could have been a 'zero' before, but you are most definitely the 'after' picture now. Was this gradual or was there one day where you woke up and just said to yourself, 'Wow, I'm hot now!'?"

"Um, neither. But it was probably Middle School when girls started noticing me for the first time."

She holds up her hand. "Okay, that's enough information. Thank you very much."

I shake my head in amazement. "Bella, you _really_ do not have anything to be jealous about."

O)(O

"Your place or mine tonight?" I ask hopefully.

"Ugh, sorry, Edward, I really can't. I have two big papers to finish for Monday, and someone keeps _distracting_ me."

"I suppose there might be some studying I should probably do as well," I lament.

"Well, go and be productive. Between finals and Jasper's non-birthday party on Saturday, we're hardly going to have any time for each other this weekend."

"Unacceptable."

She looks over at me across our bland dinners. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"I'm gonna work my butt off so we can have Friday night alone together. How about you?"

She smiles. "Same."

O)(O

"Edward, this was a great idea."

She has no idea how hard I had to work in order to carve out this night for the two of us. Double tutoring sessions with Emily, sequestering myself in the library for hours on end preparing over 400 index cards of Psych factoids, and staying up all night typing my paper last night. I haven't worked this hard since the end of junior year of high school. But it's all worth it as I give her a playful boost up the steps of the bus.

She starts to dip into a seat about a third of the way back, but I pull her back and shake my head. When she responds with a puzzled look, I look toward the back seat of the bus and give her a wink. I scoot in first and pull her next to me. We slink down so the driver can't see us in his mirror. "You've been depriving me again," I complain before kissing her.

"Again?" she says, during a breathing break.

"Yeah, you went a whole week without kissing me. Remember?"

"Oh, you mean when you were vomiting?"

"Bella, I'd never let something like that stop _me_ from kissing _you_."

"That's pretty disgusting, Edward," she says, lips quirked up in an amused grin.

I shrug. "I'm just being real with you, Bella."

~**BPOV**~

"Bella, look at this Big Mouth Billy Bass. I have to get this for your dad!"

He clicks a button on the remote and "Take Me to the River" starts playing. The fish suddenly comes to life and starts singing. "Oh my God, he is gonna love that," I admit. "He'll probably put it up in his office."

"Perfect. Then he can think about me all day," Edward grins.

"Edward, what am I going to get your parents?"

"I have no idea. I usually just make them a card."

"That is so lame. What do they like to do in their free time?"

"Well, Dad golfs and plays squash. Mom loves to cook..."

"Is there anything they like doing together?"

"I don't know, Baby, maybe the same thing we like doing together?" he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Ew, Edward. These are your parents we're discussing."

"Okay, okay. I guess they like going out to dinner, sharing a bottle of wine. They love watching old movies- you know, Cary Grant, Alfred Hitchcock, Sophia Loren."

"Perfect! How about if I put together a basket of old movies and throw in some microwave popcorn and call it 'Date Night'?"

"I think they'd love that, actually," he says with a slight pout.

"Why are you making a boo-boo face?"

"Because I didn't think of it first."

"Edward, we're a team, remember?"

"So it can be from me, too?" he brightens.

"Of course. You're going to have to give it to them from both of us."

"Aw Bella, come on. It'll be okay."

And I really don't mean to fall apart and cry on the porch of Aldo's Emporium, but that's exactly what happens. He holds me and lets me cry softly for a few minutes before wiping the tears off my cheeks. "I have an idea. Come with me!"

He pulls me down the block and into the five-and-dime store. I cannot imagine what he can find in this place that will cheer me up. He guides me past the brightly colored yarns, the squawking parakeets and hamster cages, and the rows and rows of toys and games. "I knew it," he says, breaking into a wide smile.

"Where are you-?"

"Over there, Bella. Come on."

He pulls me faster until we're in the most remote corner of the store, where he's located an old-fashioned photo booth. He reaches for his wallet and pulls out a crisp five-dollar bill. "Okay, Bella. Have you done this before?"

"Yes, but not since my parents took me to the state fair. It must've been twelve years ago."

He chuckles, "Well this is probably the same machine. We get three poses, with ten seconds in between."

"Hang on a second," I warn. "I need to fix my lip gloss."

"Okay, there's a little mirror over on the other side. Do your thing while I put in the money."

I run a hand through my own hair, which probably only makes things worse, but I'm not gonna pussy out and look in the mirror. Bella comes back around to the front, and I slide the black velvet curtain to the side. "You look perfect. All right, sit down on that 'x' and look right at that red light on the wall."

She sits down and looks anxiously at the light. I take a seat next to her. "Okay, so after I push the button, we get ten seconds and that light will start flashing right before it snaps the picture. Come on, Bella. Relax!" I make a goofy face and flick my finger up and down over my lips to try to get her to smile. Her face finally loosens and she smiles a relieved, silly smile.

"Okay, here we go." I push the button. "Quick, hop on my lap! Hurry up, Bella, we only get ten seconds!"

I scurry onto his lap and he twists my head to his. He closes his warm lips over my surprised mouth just before I hear the CLICK! of the shutter. My eyes are still wide with wonder when he pulls back. He smiles at my response and nuzzles his nose into mine. "God, Bella, you are so beautiful right now." We're still gazing at each other, lost to the world, when we hear the second CLICK! He blinks back at me, as if seeing me for the first time. My head tilts in silent question. _What are you thinking right now, Edward?_

"Bella...I love you."

We're at the top of a roller coaster, teetering on that last piece of track before the giddy ride down. Time stops. Edward breathes out. I breathe in. _Edward Cullen loves me_. His declaration is sweeter than every kiss we've shared, floatier than the pillowy clouds after the most explosive orgasm. _Edward loves me. _

The instant my lips relax into a smile, Edward's provide the mirror reflection. And we do nothing but sit and stare and smile.

CLICK!

^**EPOV**^

Wow! Where did that come from? It's not as if I'd been plotting and planning to tell her that, or even thinking about it consciously. It just bubbled right up when she looked at me just now, and I didn't even realize what I was saying until the words were already out. Not that I regret it for one second. Because I really do love Bella, and it felt awesome to tell her. And I can see that she's really happy about it, but in a second or two, she's going to start wondering, "Should I say it back?" And I have to put a lid on that line of reasoning right this second before it takes hold.

I grab her legs and move her around so she's straddling my lap on the tiny bench. I know one surefire way to keep her from speaking, and I go with that strategy first, pulling her lips to mine again and kissing her until neither of us can breathe. She finally pulls back to suck in some oxygen, and just as she opens her mouth to speak, I rub my thumb along her lips.

"Wait, Bella. Don't say anything right now. Please?"

She nods once and I remove my thumb. "Thank you." I lean in and kiss her again, much more gently this time. She has that stunned deer-in-the-headlights look again. "I'm starved. You ready for dinner?"

"Sure," she says, sliding down off my knees.

I pull back the curtain and retrieve the filmstrip with the three pictures of us. Kissing. Gazing. Loving. And I know what I'm giving Bella for Christmas.

O)(O

The waitress at the Atlantic Grill cards us when we order a bottle of wine, so we settle for ice water instead. Bella pushes the bread basket towards me, and I oblige by eating two pieces of cornbread and something long and crunchy. I reach my hand across the table and she laces her fingers between mine. She's lost in thought, and I wonder if we should talk about this.

"So..." I venture boldly.

"So..." she returns, with a weak smile.

"I'm sorry I asked you not to talk before. I just didn't want you to say it back right away, y'know, because you thought you had to?"

"Okay," she says contentedly.

"Okay." I smile, much relieved.

O)(O

"Stay with me tonight?" she asks, as our fumbling intensifies on her bed.

"Twist my arm," I answer.

She pulls back and giggles. "You sure that's where you want my hands?"

"No. Definitely not!" I unbutton her shirt and bury my face in her cleavage. She doesn't resist when I unbuckle her bra and loosen the cups.

"Nnngggghhh," she cries out, as I take a nipple between my teeth. Her lower body gnashes against mine, hips pushing into hips. Bella grabs for her jeans and gets them unbuttoned faster than I can say, _I'm not cumming in my pants tonight!_ I help her off with her thong, and as she kicks it down over her feet, her thighs press against my hard-on. I'm still waiting for an invitation, and Bella does not disappoint.

"Edward. Pants. Off," she says breathlessly. That is one command I do not need to hear twice. As soon as my jeans hit my ankles, Bella's got the waistline of my boxers in her hands. She wastes no time at all sliding them over my eager cock. Once they reach my knees, she pushes her foot between my legs to finish off the job. I interrupt myself for a second to slide my shirt over my head so I can feel her skin against my chest. As I roll back against her body, our thighs bump together. Shyly, we both pull back at the unexpected intimacy. I quickly find her lips again and wrap my arms around her back, holding her soft chest against mine. Our bodies line themselves up again, side by side, left hip to right. Less cautiously, we scoot together.

I feel the soft tickle of her hair against my shaft, the smooth skin of her stomach against the tip. She splits her legs open and pushes her left leg between mine. Now I can feel the moist warmth between her legs as she thrusts gently against me, building rhythmically.

"Fuuuuck, that feels good, Bella," I moan, rocking into the satiny soft skin of her stomach for the first time. I reach my hand between her legs and gently tease the tiny spot at the top of her opening as she continues to pulse against my thigh. Bella imitates my motion with her own hand and slides her fingers along the side of my length.

"Mmmmm," is all I can manage, both of us building in speed and intensity. Bella's breathing picks up, and she starts the telltale keening that signals me she's on her way. I press my lips to hers and seek out her tongue with an urgency that almost scares me. I focus on her pleasure and pace myself to match her peak. She pushes her face away from mine and pants desperately for a breath. Her voice rises. Her fingers rub me more enthusiastically. My finger circles around and around the center of her pleasure. I pulse against her. I hold my breath and wait for the delirium of my release as Bella squeals out underneath me. In that moment of clarity, I recall the look on her face as I professed my love, and a thousand stars burst before my eyes.

I drop my face into her neck and nip at her softly as I regain my senses. "Edward," she whispers.

I lift my head. "Yeah?" I answer softly.

"I love you, too."

"I know," I respond.

**~BPOV~**

After three shots, I can finally feeling the tequila loosening an inhibition or two, but not enough for me to go solo. "One more, Edward," I say. He obliges agreeably, pouring one for himself as well.

"Who else needs another? Rose? Alice? No more for you, Jas, I'm cutting you off!"

"But it's my birthday!" he wails.

"It's actually not," Edward reminds him sternly. "And I think five is enough, in any case."

Emmett reaches for the bottle. "I'll do ours, Eddie," he says, refilling his and Rosalie's glasses. Alice waves him off. She only weighs about 100 pounds soaking wet, so she's had her fill already. We all finally wrap ourselves up in coats and scarves and tumble out the door like an overturned box of puppies. Edward wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and I can sense that none of us is exactly walking a straight line toward the bar.

"So, Bella," he says, "have you picked out your song yet?"

"Nope," I lie.

He starts to laugh. "You are the most terrible liar who ever told a lie."

"It's not exactly something I aspire to be good at!" I huff, slightly miffed.

Edward ends the mini-argument the same way he always does, by kissing me and making me forget my own name.

O)(O

"I want to start off tonight by saying to my Jazzy, 'You're my cuppy-cake!" Alice kicks off the party with "The Cuppycake Song," sung in a perfect imitation of the 6-year-old girl who made the song famous.

_"You are my honey bunch, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-ump-kin  
><em>_You're my sweetie pie,  
><em>_You're my cuppy-cake, gumdrop, snickle-puss, boogum  
><em>_You're the apple of my eye._

_And I love you so and I want you to know that I'll always be right here  
><em>_and I love to sing these songs to you because... you... are... so... dear."_

Alice takes a theatrical curtsy, and receives amused and appreciative applause for her rendition of the song. Jasper hops up onto the stage and, taking the microphone from her, kisses Alice long and hard to wild hoots and hollers from the audience. "Thank you, Darlin'. You're my cuppy-cake, too."

He whispers something private in her ear, and Alice skips down the steps to our table. She takes her seat and turns expectantly toward the stage, where Jasper is poised and ready to sing his selection. It's a country song, and Jasper turns on his southern charm, directing all his attention directly at Alice.

_"Front row, 8 years old, me and her and a box of popcorn, watchin' Peter Pan  
><em>_I said, 'Why can't we fly? Our hearts will never land and live forever hand in hand.'  
><em>_She said, 'Hey, we could try.' 15 years later, well I guess she's right.  
><em>_She's my Tinkerbell and I'm her Peter Pan  
><em>_It feels just like a fairy tale when she takes me by the hand  
><em>_We might grow old, but our love will never die  
><em>_She's my happy thought and I swear I could fly…"_

Edward leans into my ear and says, "Tinkerbell! That is perfect for her!"

"…_We might grow old but our love will never die  
><em>_Cause she's my happy thought and I swear that I could fly.  
><em>_You can fly, you can fly, you can fly..."_

I feel the pressure building, and I wish I'd had a couple more shots, but I know they won't serve us here without fake id's. Not exactly something I've ever pursued growing up as the daughter of the Police Chief, and I've never seen Edward pull one out either, for that matter. Maybe the athletic scholarship is forefront in his motivation, or maybe he just never cared that much about drinking. Either way, my faucet is shut off, and whatever courage I'll have to muster from here on out is not coming out of a bottle.

Alice looks around our group expectantly. I have no illusions about tonight. Each of us is getting up there. I'm just not ready yet. Luckily, Emmett pops out of his seat, gives Rosalie a parting kiss and sly wink, and takes the mike from Jasper's hands, patting him on the back as he exits the stage. A few seconds later, the familiar guitar intro to "Start Me Up" fills the room, and Emmett starts strutting across the stage. Rosalie sits taller in her seat and beams up at him from our table. Emmett is absolutely hilarious, and remarkably on pitch. Apparently, it's not just athletic prowess that runs in the Cullen genes. I marvel at Emmett's lack of self-consciousness as he belts out the final lines of the song.

_"__You, you, you make a grown man cry_  
><em>You, you make a dead man come<em>  
><em>You, you make a dead man come."<em>

Rose jumps from her seat to give him a standing ovation. Emmett sparkles back at her from the stage, seeing only Rosalie, despite the encouragement he's getting for an encore from the rest of the crowd. Emmett takes a bow and proffers the mike to Rose. She quickly sits back down in her seat and waves him off. Emmett, amused, continues to try to persuade her to the stage. Rose turns her back to Emmett, and when she turns to the table, I see that she looks positively stricken with fear.

I have never seen Rosalie anything less than replete with confidence. "Rose, what is it?" I ask, leaning in.

"I can't sing, Bella."

"Oh, this isn't real singing," I try to reason. "This is karaoke, drunk stumbling around while holding a microphone."

"No, Bella," she starts, and I can sense now that she is dead serious. "I REALLY cannot carry a tune. Fuck, I can't even lift a tune. You have to get me out of this!"

I don't know what possesses me, because five minutes ago, I, too, was panicked about going on stage. But here's my wonderful roommate, who time and time again, has put herself out to help me, never asking one thing in return. I stand and loop my arm around her elbow. "Alice, we're getting her through this. Grab the other arm."

Before Rose realizes what's happening, the three of us are standing on stage. Emmett looks worried, but I take the microphone from him and say, "We got this, Emmett." He nods and hops off the stage. I see him give Edward a questioning look, but Edward just shrugs and watches the stage. I give the emcee our song choice, possibly the most over-played song in the history of karaoke, but it seems to fit the bill tonight.

Alice catches on quickly, and works the intro, while Rose gathers her senses, realizing that she can do this.

"_Hi. We're your weather girls and have we got news for you  
><em>_You better listen, __Get ready, all you lonely girls  
><em>_And leave those umbrellas at home. All right!_

_Humidity's rising, barometer's getting low  
><em>_According to all sources, the street's the place to go  
><em>_'Cause tonight for the first time, just about half past ten  
><em>_For the first time in history it's gonna start raining men…"_

Rose and I join in, along with every other female in the bar:

**"**_**It's raining men, Hallelujah it's raining men, Amen!**  
><em>_I'm gonna go out. I'm gonna let myself get...absolutely soaking wet.  
><em>_It's raining men, Hallelujah it's raining men,  
><em>_Every specimen: tall, blonde, dark and lean,  
><em>_Rough and tough and strong and mean…"_

The three of us lose ourselves in giggles as we identify our 'specimens' for the audience, not knowing which to point to for 'mean'. Our guys are bobbing in their chairs, enjoying the show and our relaxed inhibitions. I remember the way that Edward watched me dance with Rose at Emmett's party, and I ham it up a bit, pulling the three of us closer and swaying more and more suggestively. Edward's eyes pop open with interest, and I watch his tongue take a long, slow swipe across his lower lip. His excitement revs me up, and when our song ends, I'm ready for my solo.

**^EPOV^**

It's not possible that Bella understands what seeing her up there like that does to me. The other girls exit the stage giddily and return to waiting arms, but they're all just a blur in my peripheral vision. My eyes are locked onto Bella like a tractor beam and I haven't blinked since she took the microphone. There may as well be nobody else in the room once she starts singing, closing her eyes and channeling Sarah MacLachlan:

"_Mmm mmm mmm doo doot doo doo-  
><em>_Your love is better than ice cream,  
><em>_Better than anything else that I've tried  
><em>_Your love is better than ice cream  
><em>_Everyone here knows how to fight  
><em>_It's a long way down, It's a long way down  
><em>_It's a long way down to the place where we started from…"_

Holy shit! Bella is singing about our non-caloric kissing in the sexiest possible way. Not only that, she's crooning about my love for her, as if we hadn't just made the all-important declarations only 24 hours ago! She catches my eye as she starts the second stanza, and I've never seen her look so confident. It's not only my heart that sits up and takes notice of Sexy Lounge Singer Bella.

"_Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo-  
><em>_Your love is better than chocolate  
><em>_Better than anything else that I've tried  
><em>_Oh, love is better than chocolate  
><em>_Everyone here knows how to cry.  
><em>_It's a long way down, It's a long way down  
><em>_It's a long way down to the place where we started from  
><em>_Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo"_

Before the final "Doo" is out of her mouth, I'm crashing the stage like a bull heading for the waving red cloth. "God DAMN that was sexy, Bella!" I declare, just before smashing my lips to hers and spinning her around.

The audience cheers wildly, and I realize I've spoken directly into the microphone. Bella blushes a gorgeous shade of crimson, and I kiss her once again. "Oops," I say into her ear, adding a shrug of my shoulders as an apology. Bella rolls her eyes and takes a comic bow before handing me the mike.

"Make it good, Cullen," she smiles, giving me one final kiss before going to take her seat.

"Well," I speak into the mike, "am I right or am I right? Let's hear it for the sexy Bella!"

Bella crosses her arms and shakes her head but she's still got a smile on her face. I make my music selection and wait for the guitar vamp to begin. 1, 2, 3, 4…my feet pick up the rhythm and I shuffle across the stage…5, 6, 7, 8-

"_Oh yeah...__Well, I get rattled every time we meet  
><em>_I get rattled even in my sleep  
><em>_I get rattled, Baby, over you!_

_I get twisted, I get turned around  
><em>_I get twisted and I'm up and I'm down  
><em>_I get twisted, Baby, over you!_

_Well, baby, baby, baby, won't you stay one night for me?  
><em>_Baby, baby, baby, is there something wrong with me?  
><em>_Baby, baby, baby, this is out of my control  
><em>_It looks like nothing's wrong but deep down in my soul-_

_Twisted… shaken… ratted…R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!"_

And there it is. My trademark, the throaty growl I perfected in high school. Gets 'em every time, and this crowd is no exception. But I'm only looking at one set of eyes as they light up in surprise, one mouth as it forms a perfect 'o', right before her hands clasp over it. I shoot Bella a sexy wink, letting her know that particular growl was just for her.

I really let loose now and I'm jumping my way all over that stage, hamming it up big time.

"_Well, baby, baby, baby, won't you stay one night for me?  
><em>_Baby, baby, baby, is there something wrong with me?  
><em>_Baby, baby, baby, this is out of my control  
><em>_It looks like nothing's wrong but deep down in my soul-_

_I'm rattled…twisted…shaken…R-r-r-r-r-r-r-!"_

This time, Bella shrieks loudly and jumps out of her seat. Though we're separated by a platform and about twenty feet, she's dancing along with me next to the table. Soon, the other girls hop up and join her.

_"I get twisted, Baby, oh…over you!  
><em>_Whoa, I get shaken I get torn up by the roots  
><em>_I'm shaking and I'm in my boots  
><em>_I get rattled, Baby, over you.  
><em>_Yeah, I get rattled, Baby, over you!  
><em>_Rattled, Baby, over you!"_

I send up a special prayer of gratitude to The Traveling Wilburys as I set the mike down and hop off stage. Bella grabs me and continues jumping up and down. "ED…WARD! That was SO AWESOME!"

"Bella, say goodbye to your friends."

She lifts an eyebrow in question. "We're all done here." I send her a pointed look and she catches on quickly.

**~BPOV~**

Edward is practically pulling me home, he's so excited. And I have to admit, his sexy little song and dance routine has me all kinds of hot and bothered as well. But just as we near my door, I feel a twinge in my belly.

Pushing the cramp aside, I unlock the door and let us in. Edward's on top of my lips before I can kick the door closed behind us, and he's dancing me over to the bed. And that nagging ache returns as he tosses me to the mattress.

"Mmm, sorry," I say, pushing him off me.

"What did I do?"

"Not you, Edward, it's my stomach."

"Oh, fuck no. You got the flu? I knew it! I knew it! Damn, I was so selfish, I-"

"I'll be right back," I say, interrupting his self-blaming session and hopping off the bed.

I run across the hall and push open the metal door. Yanking down my pants and underwear, I immediately see the cause of my achiness. "Oh my God," I say to the reddish stain. I have to laugh at my own stupidity. Of course, my period is long overdue. My recent weight loss has completely thrown off my body's rhythms, and this is only the second time I've gotten my period while at school. I clean myself up best as I can without the supplies I need.

I push open the door I hadn't closed on my way out, and see a nearly panicked Edward sitting on my bed, wringing his hands. "Are you okay? Did you throw up? Do you have a fever? Fuck, Bella, I am SO sorry."

"Edward, relax," I giggle. "What I have is not contagious, and I sure as hell didn't catch it from you!"

"What?" he asks, forehead crinkling in confusion.

"I have my little monthly visitor, only she's been away a bit longer than usual."

"Bella, I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"Edward, I have my period."

Like every man before him since the dawn of time, Edward is humbled by the mysteries of the menstrual cycle. He turns a dark shade of purple that I have not yet seen on his face. Finally! A topic that embarrasses the unembarrassable Edward. He's speechless.

I make quick work of grabbing my supplies and a fresh pair of panties before making a hasty exit. When I return, Edward is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, twisting at a clump of hair at the back of his head.

"Should I go?" he asks.

"Why?" God, he's acting so strange.

"I just didn't know if you….I mean, usually, when…"

Damn, he is so adorable like this. It's been a while since I've seen his soft underbelly, and I have to admit, I love seeing him all vulnerable like this.

"Edward," I tell him, "just because I can't have any fun tonight doesn't mean you shouldn't!"

"I don't understand this, Bella. I mean, the girls that I've known, when they get their period, they're kind of…y'know…"

"Bitchy? Evil? Crazy? Moody?"

"Yeah," he laughs. "Something like that."

I meet him in the middle of my room and wrap my arms around his waist. "How many of those girls did you sing 'Rattled' for?"

"Zero," he answers.

"As in, zero to hero? My little Wonder Boy." I reach in for a kiss. "Why don't you put your rattled, twisted, shaken little butt down on my bed and let me show you how much I loved that song."

He brightens like a Christmas tree that has just been plugged in. "You mean it?"

"Of course, Edward."

"I swear I am the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the planet."

"No, Edward. You are the second luckiest son of a bitch. You're looking at number one right here."

**^EPOV^**

Pants around ankles. Boxers to knees. Lips locked to lips, tongues playing lazily against each other. Palms kneading naked breasts.

Bella's hand wrapped around my incredibly grateful dick, stroking, teasing, touching, drawing pleasure.

After, wrapped in her arms, I can't help but blurt what I'm feeling. "Bella, have I told you lately that I love you?"

O)(O

_E- Finished both papers and studied for Calc. I'm wiped. Forgive me if I just conk out? xb_

_B-You're forgiven- IF you agree to celebrate Xmas with me Wed night ALONE before we leave. XE_

_E-Sounds like a deal. Night night, love you. xb_


	17. Lessons Learned

**12/19/2011 **

**^EPOV^**

Banner hands back my paper first, then extends a second. Curious, I take it from him.

"What would be the point of my handing this to Miss Swan, when you're just going to take it before she can read it?" he says with a sly smirk.

I lean in to Bella's seat after he leaves and say softly, "He's probably going to want to be the Best Man at our wedding."

She rolls her eyes and gestures me to read already. Hers is on top, so I hit that first, flipping to the last page for his comments.

'_I'm impressed with your complicated movie choice, Miss Swan, as well as your extrapolation of the themes of understanding and prejudice. I admire your choice of the atypical Disney princess, as you point out, with facial features different from our society's accepted norms of perfection. Also, thank you for your insightful parallels between movie father/daughter and your own situation. Once again, Miss Swan, your honesty earns you the A. It has truly been my pleasure to have you in class, and I hope to stay abreast of your writing career. Perhaps you'll take another of my courses during your career here at Holden. It would certainly be my honor. MAB'_

'_MAB_,' I mouth, sliding the paper across to her desk and pointing to his initials at the end. She takes it anxiously, and I enjoy watching her read his complimentary review. She bites her lower lip at the end to camouflage her smile, but it's too late. I've already seen it.

Certain that he's written similar platitudes for me, I turn eagerly to his notes at the back.

'_Mr. Cullen-or should I say, Wonder Boy?- I found this paper to be incredibly endearing. Your selection of Hercules is certainly telling. You did well identifying the physical attributes that made him both vulnerable and lovable. Your analysis of the supporting cast of characters was impressive, from trainer to flying horse sidekick, to the all-powerful Zeus himself. You did well to identify humility as Hercules' strongest asset, as well as a willingness to work hard for what he desires to achieve. The music is indeed joyous and singable, as a trip to YouTube reminded me (Thanks for that, by the way!) Another 'A' for your impressive collection! It has been a joy to watch your writing muscles flex and grow in my seminar. I am pleased that you have never allowed your learning disability to truly stand in the way of your success in this class. I hope you'll always look back on this writing seminar fondly, and perhaps credit your freshman professor for making a perfect match? MAB'_

"Come on, already," Bella taps impatiently on her desk. I hand her my paper without giving anything away. She reads and registers delight.

"All right, everyone. Let's rein it in now. We still have two more days of class. Looks like you all survived the weekend…well, most of you anyways." Everyone's attention turns to Mike Newton, who's snoozing away on his desk top. Jessica gives him a poke with her elbow and he pops up to the sound of light laughter.

"As I was saying, without taxing your minds too much this week, I'd like you to complete one more assignment. One very brief assignment for Wednesday, which I will describe in further detail at the end of class. In preparation, today we're going to be composing haikus in class."

"Haikus?" Groan, moan, random noises of discontentment.

"Haikus. Now, as you probably recall from high school, haikus adhere to a strict syllabic pattern, usually 5-7-5. There are certainly all kinds of other interpretations of this structure, but for purposes of this exercise, let's work with that. I'd like you to work separately on composing a few different haikus- try out some different themes, nature is always a good one- and then get together with your partners and exchange. See if you can point out suggestions for improvement, where another word might be more powerful. Every syllable counts. When we're through, each pair will pick their favorite one to read to the class. Okay? Compose."

Ugh, poetry with rules. I stare out the window and fight for an idea. Our classroom looks out onto a grassy courtyard that now looks like frozen tundra. It's bleak, but I give it a shot and throw out some phrases.

_Frozen ground brown grass dead tired waiting sleeping cold-_ Gee, this is cheery.

I close my eyes and recall the beauty of the New England fall. _Leafy colorful acorns dropping autumn chill crisp nights wool sweaters hot apple cider. _Okay, something I can work with. After many scratched out lines, I come up with a finished haiku:

_Crisp days of autumn_

_Shuffling and crunching along_

_We march through the leaves._

All right, one down. It's boring but it's done. Well, maybe if I had a more inspiring subject…of course, she's sitting right next to me. I go through a similar process, thinking about words and phrases that I could use to describe Bella.

_Atop rubber balls_

_Or buried in fleece blankets_

_My place is with her_

Now, that's a haiku! With my inspiration in front of me, I easily scratch out a few more verses.

**~BPOV~**

_Separation looms_

_A whole country lies between_

_Boston and L.A._

_Faces sent by Skype_

_Voice delivered by 3G_

_And touch not at all_

_Santa Claus may come_

_And yet it can't be Christmas_

_Without my Edward._

Ugh, the last one is so depressing, I rip the page from my notebook and crumple it fiercely. Edward glances up and shoots me a look of concern. Out of sheer frustration, I toss the wad of paper onto his desk.

He opens it carefully, one eye on me the entire time. Flattening the page against his desk, I watch him read through to the final line. "These are really good, Bella. Depressing as hell, but good."

I roll my eyes, and he cracks a smile. My mouth cannot help but follow. He twists his notebook my direction and says, "Here. These will cheer you up."

Autumn, nature, nice.

Balls, blankets, his place is with me? Awwww. I give him a gooey melty look and return for more of his sweet words. But at the bottom of the page, I find this:

_Every time's her first_

_Nothing makes me happier_

_Than watching her burst._

"Huuuhhh! Edward!" I twist around guiltily to make sure Professor Banner isn't nearby. "You can't do this in class!"

"You think he cares?" he whispers back.

"Fine," I answer, grabbing my pen.

_Happy to see me,_

_Always so ready to play _

_My new favorite toy._

He pulls the notebook closer to read what I wrote and grabs the pen from me.

_Soft fluffy pillows_

_Pretty please may I squeeze them,_

_With nipples on top?_

My turn-

_Jack in the boxers_

_I crank you and crank you, 'til-_

_Pop! goes the weasel!_

He laughs out loud at that one, and Professor Banner finally takes note of our little game. He heads in our direction, and I plead with my eyes for Edward to do something. He dives over the notebook like a soldier jumping on a live grenade to save his battalion.

_Please, please, please, please, _don't make us show you our pervy haikus, I beg.

"Do you two have anything at all to contribute to the class?"

Edward looks up and answers, "Just a super lame haiku about autumn leaves."

Professor Banner rolls his eyes and snorts. "Forget it."

O)(O

"Okay, here is the final assignment. You all know the importance of words, and by now, you probably realize that the shorter essays were actually harder at times than the longer ones. The fewer words you are allotted, the more each means. Word selection becomes all important.

"In twenty words or less, I want you to describe an important lesson you've learned since you came to Holden. We will share with the class on Wednesday. It won't be graded, but I'd like you all to give it your best shot anyways.

**^EPOV^**

"Well, that's one 'A' in your pocket, Edward."

"And I probably got one in Jazz as well. I have my Calc final tomorrow and Psych Wednesday. Those two are the wild cards."

"Well, I'm done with all my studying, so I'm happy to quiz you."

"You're done?"

"I wrote two papers over the weekend, and I have my Calc final later today."

"Why don't you write what I've learned since I got to Holden?" I suggest.

"You learned how to play the piano."

I count out the words on my fingers. "Yep, that's under twenty words. Done!"

"Hey, I better go and look over my notes one last time before my final. Meet you at Riley's?"

"Sure, Bella. Good luck." I give her a kiss for luck and plop myself down at a quiet spot in the library. If Bella's going to quiz me on my Psych facts, I better get to work.

O)(O

"Well?"

"I think I did okay," she says, peeling off all her winter layers to reveal her little workout shorts and tops.

"Is it my imagination, or are your workout clothes getting smaller?"

She shrugs. "I'm just showing a little more flesh these days."

"You better be careful; you don't want to violate Riley's dress code."

Just then, Riley opens the door to the studio and pokes his head out. "You kids ready?"

"Ready," Bella answers. "Edward, do you have the _thing_…for Riley?"

I would've completely forgotten if she hadn't reminded me. I dig through my bag and pull up the gaily wrapped box with a cheery red ribbon tied around it.

"Aw, you guys didn't have to do this," he says. "Can I open it now?"

"Sure," I say. Anything to divert him from making us do actual work is always a win.

He rolls over one of his big balls and leans on it, providing himself a lap for the gift. As he opens the ribbon and tears away the paper, I shoot Bella a big grin, recalling the moment our eyes landed on this mug at the Emporium. There was never a question that we'd be getting it for Riley. He pulls up the handle carefully and chuckles at the reindeer holding up barbells and the phrase, 'Merry Fitness' across the bottom. "Hey, thanks, you two. That was really sweet."

**~BPOV~**

There's just nothing better than giving the perfect gift. It's why I get a ripple of delight watching Riley open our mug. And it's the very same reason I experience a simultaneous pang of angst at my present for Edward. It should be special, no it should be perfect. Like Edward.

It should communicate to him that he's changed my life, made me believe in myself, made me feel loved. Made me feel _loveable_. All but erased the icky feeling left by a mother who abandoned me, along with my father, so many years ago. So…that's a whole lot of pressure around this present, to be sure.

And I'm pretty sure I know what I want to give him. And as he takes his spot across from me on his gigantic green ball, I try not to think about it right now. Because the very idea makes me so nervous I literally cannot concentrate.

An hour later, Riley pulls both of us into a sweaty hug and says, "Merry Christmas, you two. And thank you for the mug. I'm going to have my Christmas morning hot chocolate in that and I'll think of you."

Edward pulls back first, slapping Riley on the back and saying, "We'll see you next year. Happy holidays."

I add, "Send my holiday wishes to Connor," as we exit.

"So, Edward, want me to quiz you tonight?"

"No, but thanks anyways. I think I'm just going to read over all my calc notes again and try to get a good night's sleep tonight.

"Good luck tomorrow and let me know how it goes, okay?"

O)(O

I've been putting off the phone call, deluding myself about the reality of our impending separation. But around 9, Dad texts me, and I can no longer evade the issue.

_Bells- When's your last final? When should I come for you? _

Edward and I need our night together. _How's Thursday morning? Maybe 9?_

He responds almost immediately. _Sounds good. Take care of yourself and good luck with finals. -Dad_

With only my Comp Sem final assignment between me and my vacation, I grab my notebook and hop on my bed to write my final composition. Eventually, I settle on:

'In writing, as in love, one must risk brutal honesty in order to earn the ultimate reward.'

Satisfied, I grab my laptop and start researching for my present for Edward.

**^EPOV^**

I stare at the email, trying unsuccessfully not to feel resentment for being pulled to the opposite end of the country from Bella. Our flight leaves Manchester Airport at 12:32, so Emmett and I will have to take the bus from school around 8:30 on Thursday morning, which means, Wednesday night is all we get.

I tap out a response to Mom, letting her know I received the info and I'll print my boarding pass. She reminds me to bring my clubs and my sports coat. I have to close the laptop so I can focus on my math formulas. I study the notes that Emily and I prepared together last week until the Greek letters swim before my eyes like alphabet soup.

Pushing myself up from my desk so I don't fall asleep in my chair, I head to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. I know people all around me are drinking extra coffee or finding Adderall or sucking down Red Bulls, but I've always found that just going to sleep is my best strategy. Returning to my room, I force myself to read the Psych cards all the way through so the facts can 'percolate' in my sleep. Though I'd much rather my dreams were spent percolating themselves on my hot girlfriend and her ever-skimpier gym clothes.

O)(O

"Five more minutes," Dr. Bender calls. Miraculously, I'm on the last problem, and I actually feel like I got most of them right. At least, the answers I got were listed as one of the multiple choices for most of the problems.

I loop my coat around my back and I'm up and to the front of the room before he calls, "Time." He looks up expectantly as I hand him my blue book.

"How'd it go, Edward?"

"Surprisingly well," I answer.

He gives me a broad grin and offers his hand. I place my hand in his, and he shakes it warmly. "Good for you. You didn't quit on it. I'm proud of you."

I get a deep sense that he's being completely earnest with me, and truly happy for my success. I chuckle, "You might want to grade that test before you give me too much credit," I say.

"Nonsense. I've seen how hard you've been working since we had our little talk. I'd be very surprised if you didn't pull out a B or better. Good work, Mr. Cullen."

"Thanks, Doc." He gives me a parting pat on the back and I wander out of the lecture hall. I let loose a huge yawn, and a mighty stretch. All that stands between now and Christmas with Bella are twenty words and 400 index cards. Aaarghhh, I huff, shoving my hands deep into my pockets and setting my head down against the cold.

"Well, that's not a very nice way to greet your girlfriend." The words are muffled, but they're right in front of me.

I lift my face and there's Bella, all wrapped up in down and wool, and all I can see of her are her bright eyes. "Sorry, Sweetheart, I wasn't expecting you."

"How'd you do?" she asks behind her scarf, and I have to laugh.

"You came all this way in the freezing cold to ask me that?"

"Yeah," she says.

"Come on, let's head over to Froth and warm you up!" I surround her with my arms and pull her into my body.

O)(O

"That was really sweet of you to come out in this freezing cold to check on me," I tell her.

"I missed you," she admits, warming her hands around her cup of hot cocoa. She refuses to take off her hat and coat but she's conceded the scarf covering her mouth.

"All right," I say, "here's what we're gonna do. You're coming back to my room with me and you're going to quiz me on my Psych facts. By the time we're through, you will be so sick of me that you'll be begging for your dad to come and take you home."

"Fat chance," she says grumpily.

"Oh, you're a tough one today. Okay, I'm going to have to come up with something else, I can see that now. Oh! I've got it. After you warm up, we're going to the bookstore."

"Why?"

"You'll see," I wink, downing the rest of my cocoa. I certainly don't mind the diversion from studying, and I think it might actually help.

**~BPOV~**

Edward pulls me by the hand past the textbook section and into the stationery aisle. "Pick a box, any box," he says, selecting some lined paper with green lines and a fancy 'H' at the top for himself. I choose the girliest, most flowery pattern I can find and hand it to him.

"Perfect," he smiles, taking them both to the register and paying. "Sorry, can you throw in a couple of these pens, too? Oh, and sorry, do you have two stamps?"

The cashier starts to get irritated, but when she looks up at Edward, she has the same reaction as most other females on the planet and happily obliges his every whim. He thanks her with a smile that probably makes her day, if not her week.

He then leads me to the back of the store, into the cozy reading area, where there are two overstuffed chairs waiting for us. He opens the bag and hands me my box and a pen. "Okay. Write me a letter."

"Now?" I ask in confusion.

"Yes. It's like when Emmett and I would go off to camp. Our parents would have letters ready and waiting for us when we got there so we weren't as homesick."

"But I don't have anything to say."

He gives me a challenging look, "Bella Swan, you're an English major. I think you can come up with enough words to fill that little piece of paper for your lonely boyfriend. Now get to work!"

He sits down across from me, opens his box, and starts writing. Every once in a while, he looks up and catches me staring. "Better get to work young lady, or you're gonna be really embarrassed when my letter blows yours away. I'm not even a good writer."

"Hey!" I remind him, "You just got an 'A' in Comp Sem!"

"Okay, fine, I'm a good writer. Now get going!"

I have to admit, he's a genius. The moment I start writing, all kinds of thoughts pop into my head. I write to him about what we're doing right now, what I'll probably be doing when this letter arrives at his house, what he's probably doing, and yeah, how much I miss him. And that's the hard part, because he's sitting right in front of me and I already miss him.

After a while, he pulls a second piece of stationery from the box. When I look at him in amazement, he just winks at me and returns to his writing. He finally exhausts himself and says, "Love…Edward," signing with a flourish.

I mimic him, "Love…Bella."

"Gimme your box, Bella." I hand him the container, and he writes his address on the bottom. "What's your ZIP?"

"02454," I tell him. I guess he remembers my house number from Thanksgiving. He fishes out a stamp for each of us from the bag. We address and stamp our letters.

"Ready to head back now?"

"Sure, I think you've procrastinated long enough," I tell him. As if I didn't know what this little project was all about.

"Guilty as charged," he laughs. We push out through the revolving door together, laughing and enjoying our last bits of warmth before being thrust out into the New England winter once again. At the end of the block, he pulls open the latch on the mailbox and we both drop our letters inside. I feel better already, knowing a piece of him will be heading my way this afternoon.

"You are so lucky you get to get out of this cold for a while."

"I thought you Bostonians were supposed to be hearty."

"That's a myth," I say. I have no idea what I'm talking about, but I'm freezing.

O)(O

Three hours and 400 index cards later, he's done. He knows everything on these cards backwards and forwards. "You got this, Edward. You really learned this stuff."

"I'm trying to impress you, Bella."

"I'm impressed, I'm impressed. Can we have a study break now?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Edward enthusiastically swipes all the index cards right off his bed and pulls me in. "Are you still…y'know, Code Red?"

"'Fraid so," I answer miserably.

"Does it feel good at all when I do this?" he asks, rubbing his hand along my jeans.

"Not really," I answer.

"How about up here?" he asks, slipping his hand inside my shirt.

"Mmm, yeah, actually that feels _really_ good." Interesting, I never knew that.

"Bella, would you mind very much if I just took one of these home with me? I mean, you don't need them both, do you?"

"How about a trade? You can have one boob for half of your eight-pack." I reach in and run my fingers across his abs to make my selection. "I'll take this one, this one…this one…and _definitely_ this one!" Truth be told, either of the bottom two would do, but the one on the left happens to be closer right now.

"Hey, what's mine is yours. Take anything you want," says my accommodating boyfriend.

"Oh yeah?" I slide my hand into his pants. "What if I want this?" I give him a light tug.

"I generally like to be in the same state as my penis, but you can certainly have at him right now."

And have at him, I do. Until I have Edward squirming and begging. He increases his attention to the only part of my body I've given him access to, and he's driving me crazy with his pinching and rubbing and kneading. I actually feel it down below, where I'm still crampy and bloated.

"Bella, please!" he implores, throwing his head back and baring his neck to me. I find that spot that I love right where his neck meets his shoulders and I plant a wet, warm kiss with just a touch of teeth as I speed up my hand motion. His fingers tighten over my nipples as his whole body tenses, and when he releases with a throaty, "Fuuuuuuuck," I feel it as if it were my own.

His tight grip drops off my chest and he caresses me softly. Chuckling into my hair, he says, "Sorry about pinching you so hard. I think I lost my mind there for a second."

"Oh, I thought you were trying to twist off my boob so you could take it with you." His whole chest bounces with laughter and I can feel the ripple of his breath in my hair, followed by a soft kiss he plants there.

"I think I should let you get your rest so you're fresh for your final tomorrow."

He pulls my chin up and gives me a long kiss. "Thank you for helping me study tonight. Especially that last bit …cathartic release. I really hope that's on my test."

"Pick me up tomorrow for class?"

He nods. "Last time," he says wistfully.

O)(O

Thank goodness Rose has a boyfriend with a single. Otherwise, I would never have the guts to be typing, "How to give a blowjob" into my search engine. This is my most important final exam. I want this to be so good for Edward that he forgets all his previous ones. If he can learn 400 Psych facts, I can learn how to give the most awesome, mind-numbing blowjob in the history of sex.

YouTube is instructive, after I'm redirected to YouPorn, that is. I'm amazed at all the different positions and techniques. Not gonna lie, some of the stuff I watch really squicks me out, but I set my mind to the task as I would any other research project. Except this one is making me feel exceedingly horny and there's not too much I can do about it tonight.

**^EPOV^**

I'm edgy this morning, despite Bella's most wonderful parting gift last night. Psych looms large. Though my overall cumulative average will not be threatened unless I totally bomb my final, I don't want this class to get the better of me. Not when I've come so far.

But I realize it's more than just my grades. This is our last day together, and I'm nervous about tonight. I felt pretty confident pulling together my gift for Bella, but now that the moment of truth is almost upon us, I have to wonder- should I have gone with jewelry? A gift card to Amazon? No, I push the thoughts away as Bella opens her door and smiles brightly at me. She'll love what I made her.

"Morning," she says, reaching up to kiss me. "Did you sleep?"

"Like an oversexed baby, thank you very much."

"Glad one of us did," she mumbles, wrapping her scarf around her neck as we push outside.

I wrap my arm around her. "Sorry, Baby. That's no fair."

"No, it really isn't. And neither is the whole having babies thing, while we're at it."

"Aw, my girl is grumpy when she's deprived. We're going to have to fix that tonight." Period or no period, I am getting her off tonight. No way I'm sending her back to Boston in such a state of frustration.

"Shh, Edward," she says, as we pass some other people on the walk. "Besides, we can't. I'm still off limits."

"Only because you decided to be," I tell her. She looks up and I can see the edges of her crinkled forehead just below her hat.

O)(O

"Who's going first today?" Banner asks. Mike raises his hand and stands up to read.

His face forms into a cocky smirk, "If served haddock Monday, fish and chips Tuesday, and fish cakes Wednesday, steer clear of seafood stew Thursday."

"Thank you for that profound bit of wisdom, Mr. Newton. I'm guessing you learned that particular lesson the hard way?" he laughs.

"You could say that," Mike grimaces, holding his stomach and sitting back down.

"Miss Weber, might I count on you to raise the bar for us?"

"Okay, sure," Angela says nervously, standing and flicking her eyes over to Ben before reading. "There is no happiness larger than making someone you care about feel happy."

Banner nods, "Thank you for sharing that, Miss Weber. Am I correct in assuming you have a corollary, Mr. Cheney?"

Ben clears his throat and stands, grasping Angela's fingers in his as she sits down. "Being right in an argument is surprisingly less satisfying than truly understanding the other person's point of view."

"Very good, Mr. Cheney. I like that one very much. Words to live by for all of us. Next?"

Jessica pops out of her seat. "Mistakes are like professors. Some mistakes just aren't as good at teaching and have to repeat themselves over and over."

Banner's eyebrows pop up in amusement. "Present company excluded, I presume, Miss Stanley?"

"Absolutely, Professor," she giggles.

"How about you, Miss Swan?"

Bella stands, and I can see the slight shake in her hand as she reads from her index card, "In writing, as in love, one must risk brutal honesty in order to earn the ultimate reward." She looks up at Professor Banner expectantly, and he rewards her with a broad smile.

"Excellent. I couldn't agree more. Mr. Cullen?"

I feel Bella's eyes on me as I stand with my ripped out sheet of paper and clear my throat. "Be the man you want to be the first time around because you don't always get a second chance."

I venture a glance down at Bella, and her deep brown eyes are a little misty.

"So true, Mr. Cullen. And it's an even bigger fool who throws away a second chance at it."

I give him a nod and slide back into my chair. Shuffling softly, I scoot myself up next to Bella, and I pull her hand down from the desk to rest, intertwined with mine, on our joined knees.

O)(O

We've hung back because we want Professor Banner all to ourselves for a minute. Finally, everyone else is gone and we head toward the back door where he's sending everyone off with handshakes and holiday wishes. Bella pulls the present from her backpack and hands it to him.

"What's this?" he asks, amused and clearly surprised.

"It's a little something from both of us. To say thank you."

He takes the rectangular package and chuckles at the "wrapping paper," pieces of our notebooks with scribbled words and edits. Bella smiles at me while he tears open the paper, revealing a blank journal, with the slogan, "I'm a TEACHER. What's your super power?"

"This is great," he smiles. "Thank you very much. I really appreciate that."

I offer my hand. "We appreciate everything you've done to bring us together. Oh, and I learned a bunch about good writing as well."

Banner cracks up while shaking my hand. "Highly articulate, Mr. Cullen. I'm so proud."

"Sorry," I say, embarrassed. "I'm a little fried at this point."

"No worries. I appreciate the sentiment. Miss Swan, it's been a pleasure." He offers his hand to Bella, and she takes it. He places his left hand on her elbow and says, "I look forward to having you in class in the future."

"Me, too," she says shyly. "And thanks for everything." Her eyes flick to me and she blushes madly.

"Ahh," he answers. "It's always nice when something like this comes out of the class."

We stand there for a few more seconds just smiling at each other, and then it's clearly time to go. I take Bella's hand and start to turn away, but suddenly, I just have to ask him.

"Professor Banner, did you _know_?"

He understands exactly what I'm asking, and smiles broadly. "No one can know. But I just had this feeling…that you two would be really good for each other."

I nod again, and he raises the journal. "Thanks again. Merry Christmas, you two."

"Merry Christmas," we both say in chorus.

**~BPOV~**

Edward's words swirl in my head as I prepare my room and myself for our night together. _Only because I decided to be? _ Does that mean, he'd…? _Now_? Ewww!

_Really_?

Well, tonight isn't about that, or me at all, for that matter. I shower and shave my legs, giving my underarms the once over as well. At least that half will get some action. I check to make sure the little string isn't sticking out of my bikinis and wrap and fasten the matching cotton push-up bra. I spend a little extra time smoothing my hair with the blow dryer, and add a little eye liner along with my lip gloss. Edward is so worth the extra effort.

I pull on some tights and a short grey wool skirt, and the piece de resistance, Rosalie's blue sweater. I slide the long black, leather boots past my knees and zip them up. I set out the scented candle but won't light that until we return from dinner. The administration frowns on unattended lit candles in dorm rooms.

My phone buzzes, and I check to see how his mood is after his exam.

_B-Only 3 blanks out of 100…think I did well. I'm headed for a shower, then to you. XE_

_E-I'm so happy it went well. Can't wait to see you! xb_

Time for me to cram for my final exam. I type in the URL for the website that I found most inspirational yesterday and watch again, with utter fascination, as the girl on the screen swallows down the whole entire thing without gagging. Yet that doesn't seem to be the part that really gets her partner revved. I study her use of hands, tongue, teeth, the way she gazes up at him from her place at his feet. I especially like this video because they show the guy's facial responses, how much he's enjoying the attention, how powerless he is, and how gratefully he cups her head. Whether they're acting for the camera or not, there is a real connection between them, an intimacy and trust that I want to experience with Edward. I'm pretty nervous about the ending, will I really be able to swallow down that thick, gooey mess without gagging? But this girl on my screen looks almost appreciative, as if he's given her some kind of gift. And the look on _his_ face afterwards is positively ecstatic. Edward deserves that, and I so want him to direct that look of adoration at me.

I erase my history and close my laptop. If I watch any more, I might combust before Edward even arrives. Besides, he has a way of reading me, and I really want to surprise him with this. I straighten my clothing and check my hair and make-up one last time before I hear the knock at the door.

"Wow, you look nice," he says appreciatively from the hallway. It's been a while since I've dressed up, maybe Thanksgiving. I make a mental note to not get complacent about my clothes when we get back to school. It's so easy to fall into the pattern of jeans every day. But he doesn't look at me like this when I wear jeans.

Meanwhile, he's freshly showered, and his hair is towel-dried and smoking hot as usual. His beard has really grown out since he was sick and I asked him not to shave, and his green eyes are even brighter in contrast. I'm dying to plant my nose into the top of his shirt where he's left open the very top button. Oh my God, I have really gotten myself worked up! Down girl, I chastise. Jumping him in the hallway will definitely give away my mood. I play it cool instead, "You look nice, too."

"You ready? I'm kind of starving."

"I'm starving, too," I answer, and it's true.

O)(O

"Reservation for Cullen," he says to the hostess. She looks like a sophomore on work-study who landed a plum of an on-campus job. There's only one fancy restaurant on campus, and it's full every night. Luckily, Edward booked this two weeks ago when we realized it would be our last night.

"Right this way," she says, leading us officiously. Whatever. You can have your stupid job. I get Edward.

He pulls out my chair for me and helps me settle in. He's really pulling out all the stops tonight. If I hadn't already been a puddle of mush the second I opened my door, I certainly would be by this point.

"You must be wiped out," I comment. Why doesn't he look wiped out? Where are the bags that should be under his eyes and the red lines that should be running through them?

"I feel great right now," he says softly. "I've really been looking forward to this. Just being here, with you, without the pressure of any classes, papers, exams…or roommates."

"Me, too," I say, though the anxiety is starting to mount about being alone with him.

**^EPOV^**

We split a shrimp cocktail and a Caesar salad, and Bella insists on having an appetizer for dinner. Not me. I've been eating cafeteria food for way too long, and my mouth is watering for a good steak. I coax her into a few bites, but she absolutely will not be talked into dessert. She seems anxious to leave, so I ask for the check.

Walking back to her room, I take her gloved hand in mine. She seems jumpy tonight, and I know she's worried about our separation. I'm not enthusiastic about it either, truth be told, but I don't want to ruin tonight dwelling on saying goodbye.

"Can we stop in my room first? I want to grab your present." I shuck my coat and other outdoor gear quickly and reach for the present I left on my bed. I follow her down to her room, and she lets us in. She looks away as she takes off her gloves and hat, and she hangs her coat up on a hook behind the door.

"I have to admit, those boots make me a little crazy, Bella," I tell her, moving closer.

"Everything about you makes me a little crazy," she says with a shy giggle.

I rub my scruffy face and say, "You better enjoy this tonight, because I'm shaving in the morning."

"What? Why?" she asks in a whiny tone.

"It makes Mom crazy. She says the beard makes me look like an axe murderer," I chuckle.

"Mmm, I could definitely see you in a flannel shirt and some big Timberland boots."

"Oh yeah? Have a little lumberjack fantasy, do you?" I'm now toe to toe with her, close enough to rub my hands down her bare arms. Damn, she knows I love that blue sweater! I pull her closer and kiss her deeply, letting the facial hair tickle her cheeks.

She pulls back. "Well, maybe it looks better than it feels, after all. Maybe I should take a picture of you before you shave it all off?"

And that reminds me…

"You're certainly welcome to do that. Maybe later?" I hold out the present. "I'm kind of nervous about this. I hope you like it."

"How could I not like it? It's from you," she says, pulling me to the bed and tucking her leg under.

She takes the present and kisses me. "That's a pre-thank you for this. Whatever it is." She tugs at the green ribbon and it falls away, leaving only the red paper with cartoon Santa faces. "Where'd you get this paper?" she chuckles.

"Jasper. I didn't want to use the same stuff we wrapped our presents in for Banner and Riley."

"Sweet," she mumbles, placing an index finger under the seam and opening the tape. My palms are actually sweaty as she peels back the paper to reveal the picture I made her with photoshop.

It's a black and white version of our three photos from the booth in Stockton, placed on a slant across the page on a red background, framed simply in black painted wood. In the top right corner, I wrote, "_For my Bella, Just in case you always want to remember the first moment I realized I love you."_ And in the bottom left, _"Merry Christmas, 2011, XE"_

My heart pounds right through my shirt with anticipation as she reads. After what feels like an hour but is probably thirty seconds, she says, "Edward, I love it so much." I can see that her eyes are blurred with tears. "Thank you."

"You really like it?" I ask, still trying to gauge her response.

"Yeah, really, really a lot."

Relief floods my system and I wipe my palms on my pants.

"I was really hoping you would. I mean, I realize you're not one of those girls who hints for jewelry or anything, but after I made this for you, I started to worry that maybe it would be like one of those clay pots I made for my mom in ceramics, or the cheese knife I made her in woodshop. You know, something that she politely puts on the shelf but wishes she could throw away?"

"Edward, I can't imagine that your mother wouldn't love your clay pots and cheese spreaders, but for my part, I'll just say again that I absolutely love that you made this for me, and it happens to be perfect."

"Perfect gift for a perfect girl," I shrug. She sets the gift aside gingerly and thanks me with a proper kiss.

**~BPOV~**

And that brings us to my gift. And it's my turn to be nervous. "I didn't exactly wrap my gift, so would you just lie back and close your eyes please?"

He smiles easily and rests against my pillow, clasping his hands behind his head.

"No peeking, okay?"

"Sure," he says, closing his eyes tightly.

I hop up and turn off the lights. On my way back, I push play on my iPod and my special mix compilation of seductive music begins. It's kind of a combination of spa background music and porn groove. I chance a glance at Edward, and his smile grows a little broader, but he's keeping his eyes sealed like I asked. He crosses his ankles and settles deeper into the bed. Good, get comfortable, Baby.

I grab the pack of matches I left next to the vanilla-scented candle and light the wick. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself. "Okay, you can open your eyes." His eyes blink open as he adjusts to the dim light. He doesn't know what's going to happen exactly, but I'm pretty sure by now, he's guessed he's not getting a new bike for Christmas. His smile turns a little more serious, and his eyes zone in on me. He reaches one hand out and I take it. The connection with him feels good, so necessary, so soothing.

He still hasn't said a word; he's letting me take the lead on this. I sit down next to his waist and I lean over and kiss him, slowly and gently. His other hand comes to my face, and his fingers comb back the hair at my temple. My tongue plays along his lower lip and eventually dips inside he parted lips to press against his tongue.

The buildup of my earlier arousal hits me like a brick wall, and this simple act of connection draws a needy moan from deep inside me. Edward responds with a low grunt and wraps his hand around the back of my head, pulling me harder against his lips. I'm swoony and dizzy and starting to lose track of my thoughts. I place my free hand on his chest and push myself up, pulling back from his lips and his fantastic kisses.

"Where are you going?" he protests, his eyes smoldering into mine.

"That's not your present."

"Fuck my present. Kiss me again!"

I giggle at his impatience. "Would you please put your hands back behind your head?"

He reluctantly lets go of my hand and my head and replaces his hands as I've requested. But gone is the easy smile from before. In its place is a guy who's doing everything he can to hold himself back and be patient for me, and I can see that it's not easy for him. I reward him with a kiss, "Thank you."

Starting at the top of his shirt, I undo one button at a time, placing a kiss in each newly exposed spot, until finally I'm at the last button and tugging his shirt from his slacks. I don't think he's flexing on purpose, but the position he's in just makes all the muscles stand out even more, and I can't help but run my hands up and down his stomach and chest as I peel away his shirt. Tearing myself away from my very first non-caloric Edward treat, I move to the foot of the bed where his feet are crossed and rid him of his shoes and socks.

I seat myself back down near his stomach and run a hand lovingly over the hard bulge in his slacks. He flexes his hips upwards and moans, but otherwise behaves. When my fingers move to his button, he sucks in a quick breath and lifts his eyes to the ceiling. As I start his zipper slowly down, one tooth at a time, he lets out a needy whimper that I feel in my epicenter. The music has picked up a bit, transitioning from spa to porno, and I'm amazed at how it adds to the mood in the room. Edward would be sexy with a polka as background music, but this is almost unbearable.

Without touching his goods again, I open the front of his pants enough to slide them down and under his body, slowly but surely peeling them down his legs and draping them over my desk chair. Turning back to my bed, I'm overcome by the sight of him in his grey boxer briefs and his open shirt. He's trying so hard to relax, but I can see the strain in his features.

Straddling his hips with my knees, I lean in and kiss him again and tell him, "You are doing so great, Baby. Thank you so much for letting me do this my way."

"You're killing me here, Bella. You know that, right?"

"But what a way to go, eh?"

He's too far gone to smile right now, and that's okay, because I'm getting there myself. Time to give Edward a little preview. I scoot down so my mouth is hovering over the ridge in his boxers, and I breathe warm moist air over his length. Again, he pushes upwards, but this time, I put my hands on his thighs to hold him still. I pass my mouth over him once more, still not touching him, but warming him and driving him crazy. He growls out in frustration or anticipation, or maybe both.

I close my eyes and let the video play in my head and guide me. I hook my fingers into his waistband and pull his boxers away from his body so there's only a whisper of a touch on their way down. As I free his feet from the confines of the underwear, I admire the view once more, and now it's even more amazing than before. I wasn't sure I could really do this before, even though watching countless women suck countless dicks did manage to turn me on. Still the reality of putting my mouth around a guy's cock just didn't seem like something I'd look forward to.

But now, crawling my way back up to Edward, seeing him waiting there for me, so ready, so wanting, and so damn trusting, I honestly cannot wait to take him into my mouth.

**^EPOV^**

She can't have any clue the thoughts that are going through my head right now. I'm almost ashamed of myself for thinking these things about my beautiful sweet Bella. But she's tantalizing me in more ways than one, starting with those fuck-me black boots and working up to the short skirt and the infamous blue sweater. And the look in her eyes, like she's made a decision and she's in control, and she actually wants this. I am the luckiest guy on Planet Earth.

I can't help the internal begging that starts as she shimmies up toward my hard-on. _'Touch me. Lick me. Suck me. Fuck- anything! Breathe on me again, for Christ's sake. I am desperate here!_' And suddenly, my prayers are answered. I watch completely mesmerized as she flicks her tongue out and lays it flat against my shaft. The first touch is heaven, and I can't help that it tips toward her begging for more. My dick is a greedy bastard. Give him a lick and he'll take a mile.

She reaches the top of my shaft and swipes across the top with the tip of her tongue. "Fuuuck!" I whisper, trying desperately to hold still as she's asked. And that task is made no easier by the fact that Bella is staring up at my face with a huge shit-eating (or maybe it's cock-licking?) grin on her face right now. She actually looks radiant. Well, she hasn't asked me to be quiet. "Like that, did you?"

"Ungghh hmmmmmmm," she says in a porn star voice that threatens to knock the last peg of self control out from under me. '_Please do it again, please do it again, please do it-' _FUCK ME! She's doing it again!

This time, she takes a little pity on me and returns to me a lot quicker, licking up the sides and lavishing attention at the top of each stroke. I'm digging indentations into my knuckles trying to keep my hands locked behind me, when all I want to do is draw her head to me and hold her there while she swallows me down. _Bad, Edward, Bad_.

As if she's reading my thoughts, she closes her mouth over the top and slides down wetly. A few of these, and I'm starting to fear that I may explode far too early and spoil her fun. I give her a little warning, "Oh God, Bella, that feels SO good!"

She moves down and pulls my balls into her mouth, and it feels incredible but gives me a chance to calm down a little. Jesus, how does she know-?

In my defense, my brain is entirely muddled by the girl of my dreams giving me the best blowjob of my life. So yeah, it takes me longer than it should to figure it out, but I do finally catch on. The porn soundtrack, the smelly candle, the nut sack move…Bella's been studying for this! I look down between my legs with fresh adoration for my sweet girl, who has gone so far out of her way to make this special for me. And while it's not my style to sit back and take, any idiot can see that this is how she wants it to happen tonight. And it's her present, so I'm more than happy to oblige. Besides, it feels fucking ah-may-zing!

"That feels great, Baby," I encourage her. She rises to her knees and pulls me all the way into her mouth again, bobs up and down a couple of times, and then wraps her hand around my shaft. The combination of her lips and her hand pushes me to a higher plateau, and I'm getting close to my point of no return.

**~BPOV~**

I'm heading into the Grand Finale, the part where I start up a rhythm and all he can think about is more, more, don't stop, more! I'm guessing that's what it feels like, anyways. I knew it would be incredibly satisfying to please Edward this way, but what I didn't count on was how turned on _I am_ as well. Who would've thought that having a dick in your mouth could cause all kinds of clenchings to occur down below?

I pulse around him with my hand and my mouth, building and building. He groans on every down stroke and I can feel his thighs tightening with the strain under my hands. He's like one giant muscle and I'm controlling the whole beast with this one part.

My musings are interrupted when I feel his hand at the back of my head. And matching the rhythm of my hand, he says, "Bella, sorry, I can't, keep, my hands, away." I lift my mouth for a second but keep my hand going, "It's fine. I like that." And I do. And when he brings his second hand down, too, I moan around him. I know he's so close, and he's so out of control, and I absolutely love having this power over him. And I love that he's gently showing me what he needs and taking his pleasure from me. Because he's given and given and now it's my turn.

We're moaning and moving together. He's fighting to hold back and I'm working to draw him out. It's a tug of war, and I'm about to win. And at the very last second, right before he explodes into my mouth, I remember the little trick I read about, and I slide one finger behind his balls and press. It's like I pulled the trigger, and he pants out, "I'm coming, I'm coming, oh SWEET JESUS-"

He locks my head against him and he pulses and pulses and I brace myself for the warm fluid. And suddenly, he's shooting into my mouth and it's sour and hot and it just keeps on coming. For the first time since I started this, I feel like I might gag. And then he's done, and I'm okay.

I don't want to hurt his feelings, and I also don't really want to ruin the moment by running to the bathroom, so I decide to be a big girl and swallow. Blechhh! I shudder at the sensation as it slides down my throat, and I hear a warm chuckle above me.

"I think the crème brulee would've been a much better choice!"

I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and smile up at him bravely. "It was fine," I lie.

He crooks a finger, inviting me up to his face. I slide against his chest and he wraps his arms around me. He kisses the top of my head and I feel the rumbling in his rib cage when he speaks. "So…when do I get my present?"

I tweak his nipple, and he grabs my hand. "OW!"

**^EPOV^**

"Was that supposed to be your way of saying thank you?"

"No, Sweetheart. I have something else in mind. How about taking off some of these clothes?"

"But, Edward, you know I-"

"Yes, I do. Now, do you trust me?"

"Yes, but not if you're going to do anything gross."

"I'm not. I promise. There's just no reason why you shouldn't get to feel good, too."

"But I've never…"

"I know, and we're gonna fix that, too. But one thing at a time.

O)(O

After a bit more convincing, I finally have Bella standing in front of me in only her panties. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, and I pull her toward me and kiss her stomach. And every muscle in her body fights against me.

"Put your hands on my shoulders."

She steps closer so she can reach me and does as I've asked.

"I'm not going to touch you anywhere near your…house guest."

She giggles, "That's visitor," she corrects.

I slide one hand down her stomach to the top of her panties and she sucks in a breath. "Let me show you, okay?"

I wait until she nods, and I slip under her waistband. She falls forward at my touch and gasps. Bella is good and worked up over that blowjob and whatever preparation went into it. That is a very good sign for me and the possibility of repeat performances.

"All right, a little further," I warn her, as my fingers reach her soft hair. She bites her lower lip between her teeth and drops her head next to mine. I brush sideways and she moans right into my ear. Fuck, I'm getting hard again. Her tits are dangling right in front of my face and I take one into my mouth. Another loud groan into my ear sends a jolt to my penis. My hand sinks further into her panties. My fingertips have reached their final destination, and I'm nowhere near the little string I saw through her thin cotton earlier.

"This okay?" I ask, tapping her lightly at the very top of her opening.

"Yes," she pants breathlessly. It's not going to take much. I try to draw it out, but this has been building for days now, poor kid.

I brush across her as lightly as I can, and she starts to sing. I'm not talking Sarah MacLachlan singing, I'm talking opera singer warming up for the performance of her lifetime. It starts out low and throaty and picks up need and volume. I don't press any harder than that. Bella bounces lightly on her toes and tightens her grasp around my shoulders.

"I've got you, Sweetheart. Just let go. I'm not going to let you fall."

She leans into my body and fully relaxes into the sweet release she's been needing for days. Bella leans in to kiss me, then pulls back.

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

"I've got your…y'know, from before…"

"There you go again, coming up with excuses not to kiss me," I tease.

She pulls her knees up around me on the bed and knocks me backwards with her kiss.

O)(O

"Can you reach that iPod?" I ask, done with the techno fuck beat.

"Yeah," she says, silencing the device.

"Ahh, thank you. What time is your alarm set for?" I ask.

"8. Don't you have to go pack?"

"No, I packed before my last exam. What about you?"

"I'm all set. I had all day to get ready."

"Speaking of getting ready…holy shit, Bella, you had to know that was just an amazing experience."

"So you liked your present?"

"Liked it? Seriously? If your career as a writer doesn't pan out, you have a definite future as a porn star."

"Oh, I'm sure my father will be so happy to hear that I'm getting his money's worth out of my Holden education."

"So, how many…educational videos did you watch?"

"A couple hours yesterday," she admits sheepishly. "And a little refresher course today," she adds.

"Do you have any idea how hot that is, Bella?"

"Edward, I really love what you gave me, too."

"Any time, Sweetheart. It's all in the wrist."

"Edward! Not that! I was talking about what you did with our pictures. That was really sweet."

**~BPOV~**

"Hey, you falling asleep? You promised we'd stay up all night."

"I'm sorry, Bella. You sucked out all my mojo. I'm so relaxed I feel….like I could…..just…..float-"

I don't have the heart to keep him up. I settle in against his warm body and memorize the rhythm of his soft snoring.


	18. Apart

**12/22/2011  
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****~BPOV~****

Emmett and Rosalie do not seem to be faring any better than we are with the imminent separation. The boys remain stoic, but Rose and I are a pair of snotty, teary messes.

Clean-shaven Edward was a jolt to my already rattled system this morning, as he and his wheeled duffle bag and golf clubs picked me up on his way to the bus station. Even now, I can't stop looking at him and running my hands over his smooth cheeks.

"You look great like this, too. I don't know how I'm going to want you when you come back to school," I whine.

Edward chuckles at my indecision and pulls his fingers through his outrageous head of hair, lengthening a few strands with each hand. "You better say goodbye to this, while you're at it. By tomorrow afternoon, it'll be three inches shorter all around.

"Goodbye, beautiful Edward hair," I cry, setting off a fresh torrent of tears.

"Aw, come on, Baby," he says, rubbing my back. "You're taking home my present, right?"

"Yeah, it's packed." Suddenly, a horrible thought occurs to me. "Edward, what are you going to tell your family I gave you for Christmas? They're going to think I'm a horrible girlfriend!"

"Nah, I'll just tell them the truth."

"WHAT?"

"Geez, Bella, I'm only joking. Come on, they already love you. You know that."

"Don't forget to tell them the movies are from both of us," I sniffle.

"I won't. Hey, that reminds me," he says, reaching into his back pocket and handing me a square of folded paper.

"What is this?"

"It's a check-off chart. I made a little calendar of all the days we'll be apart, and I already checked off today. See? Only nine more to go before we're back together on the first."

The loudspeaker announcement of their bus to Manchester is impossible to miss, and Edward pulls me in for one last, lingering kiss. It's Edward, but it's still not good enough to last me nine days without more of these. I am working myself up into a big, fat, pity party.

We're interrupted by Emmett's slap on Edward's back. "Come on, Eddie. You know Mom'll have my hide if we miss our flight. Put an exclamation point on it and let's get going."

Edward finishes our kiss and releases me to Emmett's warm hug. "Bye, Baby Bel. You have yourself a Merry Christmas, okay?"

Rose gives Edward a peck on the cheek as well. "Merry Christmas, Little Cullen. Take care of Emmett for me?"

"I'll try," he laughs. Edward's eyes return to mine. "Love you, Bella."

"You, too," I say sadly, letting Rosalie turn me back toward campus.

O)(O

"How'd your Calc final go?"

"Fine."

Dad gives me another worried look, and I turn to face out my side window. The tears stream down my face, and trying to stop them only gives me a headache to go with my upset stomach.

"Bella, is there anything I can do?"

"No, Dad. I'm just so…s-s-sad."

"Aw, Christ, I'm sorry, kiddo. I know it hurts."

"Well, I didn't know it could hurt _this_ bad."

My father is not an eloquent man; but he is a wise man. And he knows when it's best to not try and fix things that cannot be fixed. He leaves me with the luxury of silence for the rest of our ride, and doesn't complain when I cry softly on and off the whole way back to Boston.

He unloads my suitcase from the trunk, which only reminds me of how he and Edward battled over the privilege at Thanksgiving. "I'm just gonna go lie down for a while," I tell him.

"Here, let me take this up to your room for you," he says, lifting the suitcase by its handle.

"Thanks, Dad," I tell him, as he sets my suitcase down in the corner of my room. "I'm sorry I'm such lousy company right now."

He can't resist hugging me, and I have to admit, the comfort is a welcome relief. "You don't need to pretend for me. I understand, Bella. Believe me, I get how you feel right now."

Of course, he does, but his separation was permanent. A lasting choice on the other person's part to leave him, leave us. My heart aches all over again, and I grasp him more firmly.

"Dad, how could she do that? I mean, I don't get it. I really don't get it. How do you just throw love away like it's a used Kleenex?"

His grasp on me slips a little as he realizes I've brought up a subject neither of us has talked about in years. Not since all that therapy.

"Bella," he says, pulling back but grasping my arms. "If you really want to have this talk, I am more than happy to do it, but I'm not sure you're in any condition right now."

"Actually, Dad, I think I'd really like to talk."

He gives me a once-over, as if making sure I'm strong enough. "Why don't you take a little nap and come downstairs whenever you're ready."

I step into my bathroom and splash two handfuls of cold water on my face. My eyes are all but lost inside the puffy mess of my blotchy cheeks. Ugh, I'm glad Edward can't see me right now. I'm not fit for human consumption.

I unzip the outside compartment of my suitcase, where I've carefully tucked Edward's picture frame inside two tee-shirts for safe keeping. Unpeeling the wrapping, I take another look at our pictures and his heartfelt words before placing it on my nightstand. It's the last thing I see before my eyes close.

**^EPOV^**

I don't remember the bus ride or going through security or boarding the plane. Emmett and I have two of the last seats on the plane, and we're locked into our row until everyone but the flight crew exits. Emmett finally pushes into the aisle and reaches overhead for his carry-on. I stand up too fast and bang my head into the low ceiling, growling out an irritated, "OUCH! Fuuuck!"

"Better clean that shit up before Mom hears you," Emmett warns. "I remember when I came back from school freshman year. I dropped twenty bucks in the swear jar before the end of dinner that first night!"

"I remember that dinner," I say, chuckling at the memories. "Mom teased that you singlehandedly put a new roof on the church that vacation."

It's not hard to spot Mom at the other side of security. Besides the fact that she's the last one standing, the huge 'Welcome Home, Edward and Emmett' banner she's carrying would be a dead giveaway. "Hey!" Emmett complains, "how come his name is first?"

"It's alphabetical," Mom answers, as Emmett scoops her up into his monstrous arms.

"Hey, Ma. Merry Christmas."

"Ulllllll, Emmett. Easy on your old mom, huh? Come here, Edward," she says, wrapping me in the banner and her arms. "Oh God, I've missed my boys."

"Hey, Mom. You look great. What is it, like 70 degrees outside?" She's wearing short sleeves and sandals and there's not a coat in sight.

"Gonna be 75 and sunny all week. Tell me again why you boys had to trudge all the way out to New England for college?" It's her favorite topic, and we both know she doesn't mean it. She's proud as a peacock at our athletic scholarships and our independence. But I know she misses us.

We find the carousel that promises to deliver our luggage. Mom runs her hand through my mass of tangles. "I made you a haircut appointment for 8 tomorrow morning. I figured with the time zone change, you should be up and about by then, and this way, you get the first appointment."

"Thanks, Mom," I grumble.

"Hey, you want to look spiffy for that girlfriend of yours when you see her next, don't you?"

"I do."

Emmett breaks in, "Where's Dad?"

"He's in the cell phone lot. Get your bags and I'll tell him to drive up."

O)(O

"How were your finals, Emmett?" Dad asks.

"A breeze," he answers. "I'm in the coastal zone now."

Mom laughs, "Coastal? What's that?"

"You know, second semester senior, already applied to Med School. Time to coast," he says, exaggerating the motion with a large arm-surfing motion.

"How about you, Edward?"

"I did okay. I did _well_, actually. 'A's in Jazz and Comp Sem, probably 'B's in the other two. We'll see on Monday when the grades are posted, I guess."

Mom turns in her seat, "That's terrific, honey. Sounds like you really applied yourself."

"Yeah, to his girlfriend's body," Emmett mumbles loud enough for only me to hear. I give him a healthy whack across his chest, which probably hurts my hand a whole lot more than it hurts him.

"And how is Bella?" Mom asks.

"Bella's great." Bella's too fucking far away.

"And Rosalie?"

"Rose is Rose is Rose," Emmett answers cryptically.

**~BPOV~**

Dad hears the creaking of the top few stairs and cranes his neck around. "Good morning, Sunshine," he teases. "Feel refreshed?"

"Sort of. It's kind of weird waking up at 5 in the afternoon."

"Thought you might want this. Came in the mail while you were snoozing," he says, handing me a letter on some very familiar green stationery.

"It's from Edward! I can't believe it got here already!"

"Mail travels very efficiently during the holidays," Dad chuckles. "Go enjoy that."

I snuggle into my favorite reading chair in the TV room and Dad leaves me to my privacy. I open the envelope carefully, savoring every detail. His handwriting on the envelope, the adorable little S*W*A*K he wrote along the back flap, and his return address, which I hadn't noticed in the bookstore: 'Your Boyfriend, The Chair Next to Yours, Wherever You Are, USA, 00000'.

I pull out both pieces of paper, remembering how proud Edward was that he'd filled one whole sheet and started on a second. He's incorporated the big, college-block H at the top of the page into his writing, using it to spell out, "I Heart U!" Gahhh, no wonder he had that mischievous grin on his face at the bookstore the whole time.

_December 20, 2011_

_Dear Sweet, Beautiful, Adorable, Sexy, Lovable, Amazing, Cute, Smart, Perfect Bella, (How's that for an effective salutation, Prof. Banner?)_

_Here we sit in the Holden Bookstore and I'm just watching you write to me. I can't wait to see what you've written. Well, I can wait, because when I read it, it means we won't be together anymore and I'll be super sad, but I am curious. And I know you're wondering what I'm writing, too. Well, mystery solved, I guess, because you're reading this now. _

_What am I thinking about right now? Same thing as always. Your bodacious bod. I thought it might be really fun to make a list of my favorite things about your body. _

_Your hair is soft and silky and smells like a certain tree near the fourth hole of our golf course at home. I don't know what kind of tree it is, but I plan to find out, because I love that smell._

_Your brain is exceedingly smart and you share it with me and there's still plenty left for you. And beyond writing great papers, your brain is also great at coming up with superb ideas, such as going into Stockton to work on our papers or going into Boston to ride on your great-great-great-grandmother Swan (boat). _

_Your brown eyes tell me every secret the rest of you keeps- when you're happy or sad or excited or serious or horny._

_Your boobs- need I say more? Let's face it, I love those handfuls of fleshy goodness. And the nipples are so versatile- they can act like little handles so that I can find your boobs in the dark (maybe that's why they're sometimes called headlights?), or they can pucker up and get all pointy, letting me know that you're excited or cold._

_Your hands do a lot of great things. They play piano. They pull you up over the chin-up bar. They type my papers about ten times faster than I could (that is not a hint, just a fact). They hold a cool cloth to my forehead when I'm burning up with fever. And oh, what those hands do when they touch my body. I can't even write that or we'll both get kicked out of this store!_

_Your…well, your you-know-what…is maybe my favorite part. I know what you're thinking- eww, what a pig, such a guy! But no, that's not why. Not for me, Bella. For you. Because that part of you, when I touch it in that certain way, it makes you happier than anything else. And that's why I'm pretty darn grateful for that part._

_Your heart, which you gave to me, all the way. I promise I'll take good care of it for you while we're apart. And I gave you mine, so we're even._

_(continued)_

PAGE 2 H_i!_

_Impressed? I'm on my second page!_

_In honor of Comp Sem, I thought I'd try a little poetry. Ready? Here goes:_

_I love a girl named Bella_

_I'm Edward and I'm her fella_

_Being apart is going to be hell-a_

_Do you know how bad Emmett's socks smell-a? _

_Okay, you're probably rolling your eyes right now, and that's okay, because I know about three inches below the rolly eyes is a huge smile. Yep, I knew it! I'm right, aren't I?_

_I hope you enjoyed my letter and it cheered you up at least a little bit. _

_Write back…I'll be waiting by the mailbox! _

_LOVE, EDWARD_

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and tuck the pages back inside the envelope for safe-keeping. Dad's sitting at the kitchen counter leafing through Sports Illustrated but sets it aside when I walk in to find home.

"Good letter?"

"Yeah."

"You still want to have that talk?"

"If you do," I tell him, giving him an out if he needs it.

"What do you say we have a cocktail, Bella?"

"Really?" My face brightens immediately, and he chuckles.

"I know, it's not like me. But you're in college now, and you're dealing with some very grown-up issues, and I think it's high time we have this talk."

"Thanks, Dad. What are we drinking?" I ask, rounding the back of the couch to where he's standing near the makeshift bar.

"_I'm _having a Scotch on the rocks. You might want to try something less…toxic," he says, the tips of his moustache curling up slightly.

"Do we have any wine?" I don't want to startle him by drinking hard liquor.

"Yeah, I think there's a bottle of Chardonnay open in the fridge."

I grab a wine glass from the shelf and pop open the rubber stopper. Pouring myself a healthy dose of golden courage, I remember that I haven't eaten anything yet today. I call out, "Dad, how about a quick peanut butter and jelly to go with your Scotch?"

"I'm good, honey. I had a big lunch, but you go ahead."

A few minutes later, I'm plopped at the opposite end of the couch, wine glass in one hand and sandwich in the other. "Breakfast of champions," I salute in a mock toast. "Okay, Dad, let 'er rip."

He gives me a last, long stare before starting in on his story, "You know that your Mom and I met when we were very young. Well, actually about your age, come to think of it," he starts, sipping his drink. "Life was good. School was great. Our love was so exhilarating."

I smile at the twinkle he gets in his eye. I know about exhilarating love.

"College is like a big bubble of time and space. Sure, you encounter some rough times- problems with roommates, difficult classes, studying for finals, maybe one or two drunken mishaps that you wish you could take back-"

I choke for a second on my sandwich and wash it down with wine. "You?"

He shakes his head and chuckles, swirling his drink before taking a swig. "No. Not me, Bella."

"MOM?" This is certainly news to me.

"She had a few slip-ups. Listen, kid, I don't want you to think I'm telling you any of this so you'll take my side. I'm not trying to paint your mother in a bad light."

"Dad, I'm 18 years old and my mother abandoned me a long time ago and hasn't made one effort to contact me since. I am not even slightly conflicted about whose side I'd take."

He nods. "Okay then. I loved your mother so much, Bella. She had so much life in her. She'd been places that I couldn't even have dreamed of visiting. She was drop dead gorgeous- well, you know, she looked an awful lot like you do these days," he smiles at me. I sip at my wine.

"That probably didn't come out right. You know I've always thought you were gorgeous, Bella. It's just that the way the shape of your face has changed lately, you _really_ resemble the way she looked when we met. Sorry I'm not more…elegant in my language."

"You're fine, Dad. Go on, please."

"So, she was gorgeous and well-traveled and sophisticated, and smart, oh God, she was smart. And for some reason, God smiled down upon my sorry ass and made her notice me. We were in a World History survey course together, and she was really struggling. The professor suggested we form study groups. Your Mom saw me at the front of the class, soaking up every word the teacher said like a sponge, and she figured I'd be her ticket to a better grade, I suppose."

"Hey, Dad, don't sell yourself short. You were hot then! I've seen pictures."

He leans back into the couch and laughs. "Oh yeah, I was such a stud. I had my vast experience with Mary Jane Keneally in the back of Harry Clearwater's pickup truck-"

"EWWWW, Dad! The truck you bought me in high school?"

"No, Bella. The great-grandfather of the truck I bought you."

"Oh, okay. Go on."

"It was nothing more than some fumbling in the dark- you sure you want to hear this part?"

"No, I'm not sure, but the wine is helping."

"Okay, Tiger. I'll ease up on the scoochy talk. Needless to say, I was completely bowled over by Renee Higginbotham, of the Marblehead Higginbothams. When she said, 'Jump,' I asked, 'How high?' And nothing made me happier than pleasing her."

"Ick again, Dad."

"No, Bella, sorry, that's not what I meant. We didn't…I _wouldn't_…I helped your mother with her classes. She depended on me."

"But you said she was smart. Why did she need so much help?"

"She was used to getting things easily. She never learned how to work at it. Her strategy for coping with failure was charming the teacher. That didn't work for her at Upton."

"So she had to find a different way. She became dependent on you."

"Mmm hmm. Unfortunately, I think she confused need with love. I was already so far gone for her, I couldn't begin to see what was going on. But every once in a while, she'd have a little too much to drink and she'd look around to see what her other options were."

"Ugh, Dad, that's horrendous. That must've made you feel like a …"

"Pile of crap? Yeah. I need a refill. Want more?"

My eyebrows lift in surprise. I am getting drunk with my pops, right here, right now. "Sure. Why not?"

O)(O

"What it comes down to, Bella, is I don't think we ever shared the right kind of love between us. It wasn't good enough to weather the storms that come to two people in life. Disappointment, loss, miscarriage- oh, yeah, there was a miscarriage."

"What? When?" I try to sit up, but lifting my head from the arm of the couch feels almost impossible.

"You were almost a year at the time. It was a boy," he says softly.

"Oh, Dad, wow! How could I just be finding this out now?"

He drops his head into his hands. "I don't know, Bella, I'm sorry. There never seemed to be a good time to bring it up. God, that sounds really lame. Anyway, it hardly matters now. It was just another one of those straws that piled on the back of our marriage, which wasn't nearly strong enough to handle the burden."

"I guess I don't really understand. If Mom was so upset by the loss of one child, how could she just abandon another? One that was actually alive and breathing and needing its mother?"

He throws his arms up in frustration. "I asked myself the same question for years. The only possible explanation I can come up with is that your mother could not deal with anything less than perfection. She had this image in her mind of the perfect husband, the perfect house, and the perfect family. And one by one, each of those was revealed to be what life really is- imperfect. She chose to have nothing instead."

"I _knew_ if I could've been a better daughter-"

"NO!" he says angrily. "Don't you dare do that, Bella!"

He shifts on the couch and turns his body toward mine. "Of all the fallout from our messed up marriage, that was the tragedy right there. She made you feel less than enough. Oh, I got it, too, of course:

'_How could you settle for Captain in this Podunk town? I thought you wanted to go to Law school!' _

'_Why do we have to vacation in some two-bedroom shack at the Cape when my parents have a mansion in Marblehead?'_

'_Why would you be satisfied with a fishing rig when Daddy has a 30-foot yacht?'_

He's shaking his head, dropping the words out of his mouth as if he's vomiting out poison.

"Dad," I say softly, bringing him back.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I got off track…it's the Scotch. What I wanted to say was, what finally did us in was that I couldn't stand to see the way she was constantly beating you down, bit by bit, in ways that a little girl wouldn't even recognize. The truth is, if I'd been a real man, I would've taken you from her much sooner, but I couldn't bear the finality of tearing my daughter from her mother. I kept hoping she'd change, that you two still had a chance. It's my fault it went on as long as it did. I'll feel terrible about that until the day I die, Bella."

I force myself from my wine-induced haze and push up on the couch next to him.

"Dad, no, you saved me. I remember everything. All those times that Mom would yell at me for making a mess or eating too much or not getting an 'A', you were there, defending me. Every time. That's why I've always felt guilty for ruining your marriage. I thought I came between you two."

I realize as I'm talking that my face is wet with tears, and when Dad turns his head to me, I see his is as well. He pushes closer and puts his arms around me.

"God, what a pair of guilt-harboring fools we've been, huh?"

"Alcohol is so much better than therapy!"

He chuckles deeply and loosens his grip. We both sink into the sofa and close our eyes, which is exactly how Sue finds us an hour later when she comes over with dinner.

**^EPOV^**

_B- Home sweet home isn't nearly as sweet without you. Miss you. Love you. XE_

No answer. I flop down onto my bed and turn to the Wonder Wall. I peruse the faces and bodies that used to fuel my fantasies, and I realize they're all just pieces of paper, two-dimensional representations of someone's idea of beauty. I close my eyes and recall the tear-stained face I left at the bus station this morning. Maybe I can just sleep for ten days and then it'll be over.

O)(O

A soft knock rouses me from my nap. "Sorry, honey, I thought you might like to have something to eat. It'll help you adjust to the time change."

I grab my phone and check the time. 6:45. Good, I've killed three hours. Only…I'm too lazy to do the calculation…a fuckton more hours to go. There's a message from Bella, but I'll wait till Mom leaves.

"Thanks, I'll be down in a minute." She nods and pads away. I open my message eagerly.

_E-Got ur letter. It was awesome. You're perfect. I miss you like crazy! xoxoxoxooxb_

_B-NO FAIR! Your letter didn't arrive today, but glad you liked mine. Write back yet? Hope so! XE_

_E-You would not believe how I spent my afternoon. Dad and I got trashed together(!) and he told me all about why Mom left us. Wild, huh? Hope your day was less eventful. I'll write later tonight. xoxoxb_

_B-What's a good time to call? Gotta hear more about this…XE_

_E-Any time. I'll be up till midnight or so…took a long nap this afternoon. _

Her quick response and her matching nap make me chuckle. I tap out a quick reply.

_B-So did I. I'll call you around 8 my time. XXXXE_

Emmett's already at the table, looking about as alert as I am. Mom's trying to be chipper and Dad's just eating.

"So aside from getting haircuts tomorrow, what would you boys like to do?" Mom ventures.

Emmett offers, "I have a scrimmage at 3 with the alumni squad and then we're all heading out to dinner afterwards at Jimbo's."

Dad looks up from his burrito, "It's so nice that you're finally 21. Just give us a call if you need a ride later, all right, son?"

"Of course, Dad. You know I wouldn't do anything stupid."

He nods in agreement. "How about you, Edward. Feel like hitting the range with me?"

"Sure. I'm a bit rusty. It's weird to have so much time away from my golf game."

Mom says, "Well, at least you're still keeping yourself in good shape."

Emmett chuckles, and I kick him in the shin. "Hey! What? I was just thinking about your workouts with Bella."

"Emmett," I growl menacingly.

"With _Riley_, dude," he clarifies, lifting his arms in a 'Who me?' gesture.

Mom's eyebrows lift and she picks up the conversation, "You and Bella work out together?"

I give Emmett a _Thanks-a-fucking-lot_ sneer and answer, "Yeah. Ever since golf season ended, we decided to combine our workouts."

"Oh. That's nice," she says uncertainly, flicking her eyes over to where Dad is seated to see his reaction.

He smirks and shovels in a mouthful of Mexican rice.

"Well then," she presses on, "how about if we all meet for lunch at the Club, noon tomorrow?"

A few grunts from the males at the table and it's a plan.

O)(O

"Wow, Bella, sounds like the two of you really let it all hang out."

She laughs, "Well, the alcohol helped. How about you? How are your parents?"

"Mom's hovering a bit, but she's all right. Dad's the same. He's traded his soul to the devil to get a few days off work so he can spend time with us. We're going to go hit some balls tomorrow."

"Aww. Wish I could come."

I sigh heavily. "Wish you could, too. You're way prettier than my dad."

"Oh, Edward. You say the sweetest things," she giggles.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Sue's taking me shopping. She says she can't wait to see me pull a size 10 off the rack."

"Well, have a good time. And while you're at it, why don't you buy some more tight sweaters?"

"I was thinking maybe it wouldn't hurt to get a new skirt or two. Any requests?"

"Yeah. Short."

Her laughter bubbles over through the phone and warms me. "Okay, Edward."

I close my eyes tightly and picture her sitting on her bed, leaning back against the headboard. I scoot down so my back is flat against my bed. When I speak again, my voice crackles, "I miss you."

Silence and breathing. "Miss you, too."

After a while, "Have a nice time tomorrow with Sue."

And finally, "Hit 'em long and straight."

"Bye, Sweetheart."

"G'night, Edward."

I flip my phone shut and toss it to the bottom of my bed. I don't know how I'm gonna make it through nine more days of this shit.

**~BPOV~**

"I thought you said you were a size 10?" Sue comments as I step out of the fitting room with an armful of clothes that don't fit.

"I was, last time I went shopping."

"Well, how long ago was that?" Sue asks, a tone of concern entering her voice.

"A few weeks, I guess, after Thanksgiving."

"Well, you're an 8 now. Listen, Bella, have you thought about when you're going to shift into maintenance mode?"

"What's that?"

"Oh dear," she says, concern now slipping into worry. "How about I bring you to my office tomorrow and set you up with Lolly Kimball. She's the best nutritionist around. You need someone to sit you down and explain how to transition out of weight loss mode before you turn yourself into a toothpick."

I guffaw at that, passing out of the store and into the heavy holiday traffic of the mall. "I hardly think that's a concern."

"You'd be surprised," she says. "Besides, the other risk is that you'll pick up your old eating habits again and yo-yo right back, though that's less likely since you've been combining exercise with diet all along."

"I guess I could use a lesson or two about nutrition."

"It certainly can't hurt. Besides," she leans in conspiratorially, "while you're in the office, I can get you in to see Dr. Raymond. She's my favorite of the Ob-Gyn's and she'll fix you right up!"

"Oh, um, Sue…I…"

"Bella, whatever you think you know or don't know, you should have a chance to talk it over with a doctor privately. And you should have a thorough exam. Case closed."

My mouth waggles open uselessly, but I realize it's a lost cause. Besides, she's right. Rose and Google should not be my only sources of information. "Thanks, Sue," I manage.

She winks and says, "My pleasure, now speaking of pleasure, I'm popping into Victoria's Secret. Wanna join?"

"Sue, I love you, but just…yuck. We're talking about my father here."

"Why don't you go…have a hot fudge sundae or something? I'll meet you in twenty minutes."

I chuckle at the idea that I'd have an ice cream in the middle of the day, and it hits me how far I've come, and how much I've changed in such a short time.

O)(O

Back seat loaded with packages, we make our way gingerly out of the crowded parking lot. Two cars approach from opposite directions, both laying claim with their blinkers. Holiday parking is bad enough, but with six inches of fresh snow last night, a sizable chunk of the lot is unusable.

"So, tomorrow night, Christmas Eve, you and Charlie will come over?"

"Sure. Can I help with anything?"

"Did you and your dad have any holiday traditions that you'd like to continue? Special foods? Anything sentimental?"

I laugh at the idea that either of us is sentimental. "Dad likes candied yams. I'd say that just about covers it."

She smiles, "That's exactly what he told me."

I can't help my thoughts turning to Edward and what his Christmas Eve traditions might be. It seems so foreign to me that someone could celebrate Christmas where it's 75 and sunny. I check my phone for messages but I haven't heard from him since his 'Good morning- going to the range now' which came in just before lunch.

"Missing him terribly?" Sue asks sweetly. She, too, knows about love and loss. It's hard to feel sorry for myself for our temporary separation in the presence of someone who lost her husband forever to a heart attack.

"I am," I say softly. "I know it's silly-"

"Why on earth would it be silly to miss someone you love, who you're used to seeing every day?"

"I guess. I just feel kind of spoiled, I guess. I mean, we get to spend so much time together at school."

Sue smiles warmly and responds, "You're only spoiled if you don't appreciate it, Sweetie."

_So I'm not spoiled after all._

O)(O

_Bella-It's been too long since I've told you how much I love you. XXXE_

I'm grateful to my girlfriends for offering me a diversion tonight. Otherwise, I'd just sit home and wait for his sweet texts to come in. God, I miss his sweetness more than anything. Well, I miss his kisses an awful lot, too.

I pull my truck into the megaplex lot and find a spot away from all the other cars so I don't earn any new dings. Terri and Wendy already have my ticket when I greet them in the lobby. "Wow, Labellaballou! Look at you!" Terri exclaims a bit louder than I would have preferred. "No wonder this hottie Edward is all over your bones."

"Nice, Terr," I say, falling into her tight hug. "How's your big ape?"

"Hugh is doing just fine, thank you very much."

"He gave her tonight off for good behavior _last night_," adds Wendy.

I turn to her and accept her hug. "Hey, Wen. Great to see you. How's school going?"

"Ugh, great- except for the classes and the boys."

I chuckle as we reach the refreshment stand. "What else is there?" Terri asks.

"Exactly!"

"I'll get the popcorn. You guys go in and get seats." As my friends turn toward the theatre, a contented glow comes over me. Even though I miss Edward terribly, I do have my wonderful hottie, I have great friends, and Dad and I are landing on our feet.

**^EPOV^  
><strong>"You ready for this?"

"Sure, Dad," I answer, hefting my clubs out of his trunk and slinging them across my back.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he smirks.

No sooner do we reach the range, then we are literally swarmed by Dad's cronies. "Edward! Hey, Champ! Welcome home! Great season! Followed you on the website! That's our boy!"

They finally step back so I can pull my bag off my back. I accept all their well wishes and shake all their hands.

"Edward, take a look at my swing for me, will you? Sully doesn't have a clue what he's doing."

I chuckle, "Sure, Mr. Bobbitt, let's see what you got."

He sidles up to the ball, gives it a huge, quick swing and sends the ball dead right.

"Try slowing down that swing a little, and finish high and proud like we discussed back in July."

He makes the corrections, and after a couple, they're going straight and long.

Mr. Bobbitt is radiant when he turns back to me. "You tell old Sully I want him to transfer my last payment into your account, kid. You're the best."

"You're doing all the heavy lifting, Mr. Bobbitt. All I'm doing is just looking and talking."

He slaps my dad on the arm. "How'd you keep him so modest, Carlisle?"

"I really don't know, Henry," Dad says with a grin.

"Edward, c'mere! My snap hook came back."

"One sec, Mr. Carroll." I turn to my father. "Better not wait for me, Dad."

"I'll be at the end. Work your way down and maybe they'll leave you alone for a few minutes so you can hit a ball or two."

"Save me a spot," I tell him. Truth is, I love this, and Dad knows it. These people are like my family. No matter how difficult things were at school, I could always come here and feel like a prince. They looked out for me, and when I was old enough, they started asking my advice. About their swings, about their clubs, about their cars. It felt good to be needed.

O)(O

Forty-five minutes later, I finally set my bag down in the rack behind Dad. "So soon?" he chuckles, lining up to hit his driver. He takes his backswing, and swishhhhh, tears through the ball and sends it out to the 225 yard marker. "Shooooh! Not bad, old man!"

"I'm not _you_, but I've still got some tiger left in the tank."

"W-w-wh-a-t?" I laugh out loud. "What does that even mean?"

"It was an old gasoline commercial. Never mind. Hit some balls, would ya? We have a big match tomorrow."

I grab my 7-iron and rest it across my shoulders as I twist and stretch. "Oh yeah? Who're we playing?"

"This year's father and son champs," he says disdainfully.

"Oh yeah? Who won?"

Dad leans closer and lowers his voice, "That prick Ronald Clarke and his tool of a son, Peter."

My eyes widen at my father's indiscretion. It is so unlike him. I chuckle, "Why are we wasting our time with them if you can't stand the guy?"

He rolls his eyes. "He goaded me into it. I'm not proud to say it, Edward. You remember Zeke?"

"The bartender?"

"Yeah. He tells me that Clarke was shooting off his mouth about their victory a couple weeks after, and good ol' Zeke, he serves up the beer and he says, 'Must've been a pretty lame field without the Cullens this year,' and that just got his goad. I had a good laugh over that, but the next time I see Clarke, he comes right up to me and says, 'We challenge you and your son.'"

"Oh brother," I laugh. "We only beat them three years in a row."

"Yes, but 'things are _different_ this time,' he says."

"And why is that?"

"Peter's been working with Shane Masterson, one on one, and apparently, he's down to a three handicap."

"What are the stakes?"

"Come on, son, you know it's OCCC policy that there's no wagering."

I stop my stretching to give him a meaningful look. "How much, Dad?"

"Twenty bucks a skin plus bragging rights," he admits sheepishly.

"You can keep the bragging rights."

"You don't mind then?"

"Nah, it'll give me something to do, and the $300 would sure come in handy at school."

"So you're leaving me with $60 then?"

"That's a bit optimistic, isn't it?"

"You've gotten a lot better, too, Edward. Your short game…"

"Yeah, that was Jas."

"Anything you can pass along to your favorite partner?"

"Sure, Dad. We'll head to the chipping area after this and I'll fill you in."

I'm creaky and stiff, but with the warmth of the sun and the years of repetition, my body soon settles into my swing. Dad turns to watch as I sail a few easy 5-irons out past the 175 marker. He shakes his head and smiles, "Sheer poetry."

He always was my biggest fan.

I work my way up to my driver, and I can feel several sets of eyes on me down the line. I send one out to the 250 marker, and I hear whistles and laughter. Buoyed by their support, I tee up another one, and this one falls just short of 300. "Jeebus Hallelujah Christmas, Edward! Can Santa bring me one of those?"

It's good to be home. Only one thing would make it perfect, and it's been too long since I told her.

O)(O

The love fest continues into lunch, with Mrs. Hathaway dragging out her daughter to 'Come see how Edward's shot up at school.' We're both mortified, and Jenny blushes all the way back to the kitchen.

Emmett laughs out loud at my discomfort, "It's full on hero-worship, Eddie."

"Now, Emmett," Mom chides, "don't be jealous. It's the same way for you over at the stadium."

Now it's my turn to laugh. "Yeah, Em, will the Shack Girls be there rooting you on today?"

"Oh, Christ, I hope not."

"Emmett!" Mom scolds, opening her hand. Emmett reaches for his wallet and hands her a dollar bill. "Now don't you forget, it's double on Christmas."

"Yes, Ma."

O)(O

Luckily, Emmett's not home when the mail comes, because I run outside to the box the moment I hear Floyd's truck drive up. "Well now, what is this?" Floyd teases, passing the envelope under his nose. "No perfume, but the bright pink is kind of a dead giveaway. You got a girl at school, Edward?"

"Yes, I do. Can I have my letter now or do I have to call the Attorney General and have you arrested for obstruction?"

"All right, son. Keep your panties on. Here, take it," he says, tossing me the envelope with a huge grin. "That's not really a thing you know, that obstruction…"

"Whatever. Merry Christmas, Floyd." I take my envelope and skip upstairs to my room with it and lock the door. Flopping down on my bed, I smile at Bella's careful handwriting and perfect spacing and the care she took. I slice it open carefully and set the envelope aside.

_Tuesday before we had to be apart for way too long, Xmas, 2011_

_Dear Edward,_

_I cannot remember the last time I actually sat down to write a letter with a pen and paper. Probably after my best friend moved away in sixth grade, before there were Skype and Gmail and cell phones that text. But this was a great idea. One of your best ever. And that's certainly saying a lot, because you are full of great ideas._

_Like the day you first invited me to come putting with you. I loved being with you all alone in those quiet mornings, even before you started touching me (but so much more after that!)._

_And what a sweetheart you are for suggesting to Riley that he find a way to train me without making me pay, so that I could tone up my new and improved body and feel even better about myself. And later, figuring out that we could work out together, and OMG, remember that first time…and after? *blushing madly remembering sweaty times*_

_How about our first date? Snuggled up on our Holden green blankets, listening to jazz and having our first kisses? And our second date…the Halloween bash at Emmett's, dressing up like Barney and Betty! (I still think you cut my dress too short on purpose)_

_I won't even go into all the other really awesome "ideas" you've had in your room and mine because then I'll start blushing like crazy and you'll know exactly what I'm writing about and I'm trying to surprise you here! But suffice it to say, there were some inspired moments!_

_My favorite idea, hands down, is the photo booth, and how special you made that moment by telling me you love me for the very first time._

_When I left for school just four short months ago, I never could have imagined how my life would change. Thanks to you and Rose (and yes, I know, thanks to me!) I have found myself. I know what I'm good at, I know when I need help. And most of all, I'm not afraid of love. And that's all because of you, Edward. You're amazing and perfect and sexy and sweet and studly and adorable and funny and honest and I love you so much._

_I know this time apart will be terrible, but I could never be so sad that you're not here if you weren't so fantastic in the first place! I miss you so much (I'm projecting) and I love you so much (I'm not projecting) and I hope you're not too sad right now._

_I'm watching you in the chair next to me and you're grinning and I know your letter is probably all goofy and mine's all sappy, but I don't mind being the serious one right now. Have you ever noticed it's usually you? You're the one who knows how to do this, and I'm not just talking about all the good stuff. I mean, the honesty, the communication, the making up, and sometimes, even the fighting. So it's my turn now. I am dead serious. I love you so much. I can't wait until we're together again. _

_LOVE, _

_BELLA!_

I fire off a text message to Bella as soon as I finish reading the letter:

_B-Beautiful letter. How'd you know I was going for goofy while you were being the Sapmeister? I loved what you wrote and I love you. XE_

I read her letter three more times before sliding it into my backpack for safekeeping.

O)(O

"Phipps, long time no see."

"Well, if it isn't Edward Anthony. How you doing, man?"

"I'm well. How's USC treating you?"

"'S'good. Heard you had a great season at Holden. Nice job."

"Yeah, it worked out well." _Not so much for you, I heard. _"So how'd your semester go?"

"Oh, pretty good, pretty good. Met a lot of great guys, partied a bunch, messed around with some girls…you know how it goes."

"Sure." _Got stoned every day, failed half your classes, drifted from one nameless, faceless girl to another. Sounds great_. "Hey, great to see you, Phippy, I'm gonna go find The Brew."

"He's over by the keg."

"Figures," I chuckle.

Brew, Ken Brewster, is at the keg as promised. "Cullen, hey. Missed you at Thanksgiving. How do ya like the cold? Have your nuts frozen off yet?"

I shake his hand and take the beer he offers. "No, my nuts are good, thanks for asking."

"So, congrats on your season. Heard you were a real star."

"Yeah, you two, Brew."

"It was a good time. Yeah. Got me a girl…"

"Really? Is she here?"

"Somewhere," he says, looking around. "Oh, there she is."

He's pointing to a couch, where a girl is passed out over the arm. "Isn't she cute?"

"Oh, yeah. Hey, good for you, man. I'm gonna go say hi to Marshall."

"Later, Cullen."

I bolt for the front door. What happened to all these people? I knew that they all partied more than I did in high school, but they were the students while I struggled. Now, they're all wasted and just…somehow less than I expected. I leave the untouched beer by the front door and drive myself home. It's too late to call Bella, but I send her a message she'll wake up to.

**~BPOV~**

Wake up. Look at pictures of us. Cross off another day. And today is going to be a real humdinger, my first ever visit to a lady parts doctor. Stirrups. Yippee. At least the appointment is mercifully early, so I can get it out of the way.

I check my phone hopefully, and Edward doesn't disappoint.

_Bella- Meet me in Lincoln, Nebraska tomorrow. It's halfway. I googled it. Only 1491 miles. There's a restaurant called Amigo's. I'll get us a reservation. God, I miss you so much. XXXXX e_

Oh, God, that sad little lonely 'e' at the end of all those big kisses tugs at my heart strings.

_E-I so wish I could, but I don't think my truck can make it that far. I'm there in spirit… Only 7 more days…Miss you more. xxxxx b_

O)(O

"Morning, Bella," Sue greets me in her white labcoat.

"Hey, Sue."

"Don't be nervous. Dr. Raymond is very gentle. Come on, I'll bring you back."

I step to the scale, and I'm shocked when it registers 124. "Told ya," Sue winks. "See? Isn't this fun?"

"I think the fun part's over, Sue."

She squeezes my hand and pulls me into the exam room, takes my vitals and leaves me with two johnnies. "Tie the first one in the back and use the second one like a robe. For special customers only," she winks.

Ugh, I've always hated this part. It's so cold and lonely in the office. I peel off my clothes and underwear efficiently and bundle myself up in the johnnies. At least they use cotton ones here, not the paper ones from the pediatrician's office. I climb carefully onto the crinkly paper and wait, anxiety building. Before long, there's a knock and a friendly, "May I come in?" which seems a bit disingenuous, as she's going to see every part of me anyways.

"Sure," I croak out.

As promised, the doctor is warm and talks to my face, not my scantily covered body. But that doesn't help very much when she has me lie back on the table and lift my arm for the breast exam. I don't want to think about how much more pleasant it is when Edward's hands touch me there.

"Try to relax, Bella. Just breathe." I try a little out of body projection, but it doesn't work. I'm still here, and her hands are still poking away. Finally, she's done and she very kindly pulls my johnnie shut. But my relief only lasts a moment before she tells me to scoot down to the end of the table. I know what's coming. She pulls over the big hot lamp and prepares something metal with something from a tube. I try to picture Edward's face, but then I don't really want him seeing this. But maybe just his arms wrapped around me and his eyes closed, or maybe just that text from yesterday or some of the sweet things he said on the phone last night. Oh God, that boy is so sweet, and –woooop!"

"All right, honey, just relax your knees open. That's it."

Oh. My. God. The jaws of life are opening me and the hot lamp is like a spotlight, and her goggled eyes and her rubber gloves, and _FUCK_, what is she doing up there? It feels like she's tickling the back of my throat! And just when I think I might want to die of embarrassment, she says those magic words. "All done."

She takes away the contraption and wheels herself and the harsh light away and she leaves me a wad of papery stuff to wipe away the nastiness. She helps me out of the stirrups and covers me again and I can almost pretend I'm human.

Now, comes the talk. Sue must've prompted her because she basically starts at the very beginning about how to keep myself safe and every kind of birth control and the pros and the cons and am I sexually active? "Bella?"

"Huh?"

"Are you sexually active?"

"Um, I'm not sure how to answer that question."

"Oh, you don't have to worry. Everything you say to me is confidential."

"I mean, I have a boyfriend, and we…do stuff, but we haven't…y'know…"

"You haven't had intercourse."

"No. Not yet."

She smiles a little. "But you're thinking about it."

_Pretty much all the time_. "Mmm hmm, starting to, yeah."

"Okay, how about oral sex?"

Is it possible to be more embarrassed than when she had her entire arm up my hooch?

"Yes."

"Has your partner been active before?"

"Yes."

"Has he been tested?"

"For what?"

"STD's. AIDS. Herpes. Gonorrh-"

"Oh God, I don't know."

"You should ask," she says quietly, realizing she's really freaking me out now.

The doctor spends another twenty minutes with me, answering my questions and helping me choose the right methods of protection for me. When I finally walk out of the office, I'm crampy and miserable, but I've got a sample pack of pills to get me started and a prescription for five more months, though she warns me that I need to use other protection for the first month and we should anyways until we get the results of Edward's tests. Best part is she's promised that if I take the pill every day at the same time, I won't get my period during that whole time. Sounds like a great tradeoff.

With a half hour before the nutritionist appointment, I send Edward a text, even though it's only 7:30 where he is.

_Edward- Have you ever been tested for STD's? Freaking out here. xb_

I wasn't expecting an answer, and I don't get one until long after I leave the medical building.

_B-Can you talk now? XE_

**^EPOV^**

"Bella."

"Hey. Good to hear your voice."

"You sound shaky. What's going on?"

I hear soft sniffling on the other end. Oh no, Bella's crying, and I'm not there, and I have no idea what's going on. I can't stand this distance between us. "I'm fine. Just a little freaked out."

"From what? Where are you?"

"I'm just driving home from the doctor's office."

"Why? What's wrong?" _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. Stay calm.

"Nothing's wrong. I had a checkup."

"Oh. So what's the matter? They didn't find something? Bella, please tell me they didn't find something!" I shoot up from my bed and my heart starts beating out of control.

"God no, Edward, nothing like that."

"All right. Then, what is it?"

"It was a…an Ob-Gyn. My first one," she adds.

"Oh." White sterile rooms and stirrups and evil devices whirl before my eyes. No wonder she's upset. "Was it bad?"

"Yeah, pretty rough, but mostly just kind of scary. You know, all this talk about STD's and oral sex and Edward, have you been tested?"

"No, but I've always been really careful."

She doesn't answer. "Bella?"

Very quietly, very slowly, she says, "Edward, I think I'd like you to get tested."

"Okay. Done."

"Really?" her voice sounds so relieved all of a sudden.

"Of course. It's a fair request, and I'll talk to my dad this morning."

"Thank you," she says softly.

"No problem. And he's not gonna find a damn thing, Bella. I promise you, so please don't worry about this for another second."

"Okay."

"Are you doing anything fun today?" I ask her.

"Well, I got to see a nutritionist afterwards, and she says I should start adding more calories back to my diet, gradually."

"That's good news. Maybe you can actually eat an entire appetizer for dinner by January!"

She laughs. "I think Sue's trying to fatten me up. She's pushing ice cream sundaes and sweet potatoes."

"Hang tough. So what's the plan for Christmas Eve?"

"Quiet night at the Clearwaters."

"Say hi to everyone for me. When do you guys do presents?"

"Tomorrow morning. Isn't that when everyone does?"

"Our parents usually give us ours on Christmas Eve because Emmett's a big baby and never could wait."

She laughs, "I miss Emmett. I miss you."

Uh. Oh. "I miss you, too. Hey, wanna hear about this ridiculous golf match Dad set up for today…"

O)(O

I feel kind of funny not carrying my own clubs, but Dad loves to walk, and he says his friends are too cheap to hire a caddy, so this is a special treat.

When I see who's suited up to carry for us, I nearly bust my face smiling so hard. "LeVon, look at you!"

"Edward!" His face lights up with the enthusiasm of a young boy, but he plays it cool and offers me his hand, which I shake enthusiastically.

"Last time I saw you, you were just a little peanut. You must've grown four inches since the summer."

"I've been eating my broccoli."

"And your Mama's oatmeal chip cookies, I bet."

"Oh, that reminds me," he says, pulling a baggie with what used to be two oatmeal cookies from his pocket. "Oops."

"No worries, LeVon. It'll be like granola," I say, taking the bag gratefully and gobbling down a handful of cookie crumbs. "Mmm, good as ever. You tell your Mama thank you for me, okay?"

"Sure."

"Are you double bagging today, LeVon?" I have to admit, the thought was a bit alarming. Though he had grown a bit, he was still only in fifth grade.

"No way. My brother's on Dr. C's bag."

I remembered LeVon's brother from camp pickup. He was a high school dropout who was working toward his GED last I'd heard. "Remember Jamal?"

I shake Jamal's hand and reintroduce myself. "All right, here's the game plan, guys. We are going to beat those two characters over there. And when we do, you two get the standard caddies' bonus."

"Sounds good to me!" Jamal says enthusiastically.

O)(O

"You're lifting your head, son."

"Dad, I don't need your help."

"Fine, but you've shanked the last five drives."

"Shane told me to let my eyes follow the ball."

"Christ, how much am I paying that guy?"

Dad rolls his eyes and I stifle a smile. We've had honors since the first tee, and the two of them have been nipping at each other almost as long. After an interminable round, we're finally standing on the 18th green, and they're still at it.

"Dad, if you miss your putt, they will have won all 18 skins."

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you hit your 3-Wood into the water, hot shot."

Jamal and LeVon are having a hard time containing themselves, and I can't say I'm doing much better. In classic style, Ronald pulls his putt and misses left. Peter issues forth a high whine, but remembers himself and shakes my hand. It takes Ronald just a beat longer, and Dad is gracious in accepting.

Later, I dole out an extra $40 for LeVon and $80 for his brother. "I already paid the caddies," Dad says, pulling me aside.

"Just sharing the wealth, Dad. They need it more than I do."

"All right, then," he says. "Come on, your Mom wanted us home by 4."

O)(O

"Dad, before we get home, I need to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Where do I go to get tested?"

"For what?"

"Everything, I guess. You know, AIDS, herpes…"

Dad shoots me a quick look of concern, taking his eyes off the road. "Is there something I need to know, son?"

"No. It's just that Bella went to the doctor today and she asked me to get tested."

"Well, then you should. It's the responsible and respectful thing to do."

"I know."

He smiles out of sheer relief. "I know you know."

"So should I go to a clinic or something?"

"Of course not. I'll draw your blood on Monday and bring it to the lab when I go to work."

"Okay. Thanks."

"So…you guys are….?"

"Well, not exactly. We're sort of just messing around at this point."

"And you're planning on using protection…when the time comes?"

"Of course, Dad."

"All right. I'm allowed to check once in a while, you know. It's a father's prerogative."

"Whatever."

"This one's special, isn't she?"

"Come on, Dad, keep your eyes on the road. You're making me nervous."

"_I'm_ making _you_ nervous?" he muses. "There's a rich one."

I have to turn my head to my side window because I don't want to see the smile he just put on my face.

**~BPOV~**

"Listen, Bells, I hope it's okay with you, but Sue's family always opens presents on Christmas Eve, and I thought unless you mind, we could join in?"

"It's fine, Dad. Let me just go get Sue and Seth's presents." _And Edward's present for you_.

"Okay, I'll grab the candied yams and load up the car."

Upstairs in my room, I send Edward a quick message. I know we'll talk later tonight.

_E-Merry Christmas Eve. Don't stand anywhere near the mistletoe without me! I hope Santa knows what a good boy you've been this year! Miss you. Love you. Miss you. Love you. xoxoxoxo b_

O)(O

"Well, Sue, I think Lolly would be really pleased. I think I added at least 300 calories to my daily average just now."

"And we haven't even had dessert yet!" Seth points out. "Three kinds of pie and figgy pudding."

I shoot a look at Dad and he pointedly ignores me. No way the Chief is eating figgy pudding.

"We usually do presents first, then dessert."

"Want me to help with the dishes?" I ask Sue.

"Absolutely not. Just leave everything. Come on, let's go sit in the Living Room."

"I'm the youngest," says Seth.

"Yeah, you're a whole two months younger than I am," I remind him.

"Still, I get my presents first."

"Okay by me. Here's mine." Seth's gift is a homemade mix CD of some new music I think he'll like. He opens it eagerly and seems appreciative. Charlie hands him his gift next, two Bruins tickets. "Whoa, Bruins vs. Lightning! Awesome, Charlie. Thanks!" And finally, he opens his gift from his mother, a new game for his Xbox. "Thanks, Mom. Thanks everyone!"

"All right, Bella, you're next."

Dad hands me his gift first, a beautiful book of Shakespeare sonnets, bound in rich leather and simply inscribed, 'For your collection, Much Love, Dad'.

"Thank you, Dad. I love it."

"Enjoy it, Sweetheart."

Seth pops up and hands me his gift, a gift certificate to the sporting goods store in the next town over. "I thought you might need some new workout clothes, since it's kind of your thing now."

"Thank you, Seth, that was really sweet."

"And last but not least," Sue says, passing me a box with the familiar Victoria Secret logo and pink ribbon. "That's for you to open later," she says with a wink. I'm sure I'm pinker than the box right now, and Dad shoots her a wary look. Seth is mortified. I can't wait to see what she's bought me. I'd be way too chicken to get anything for myself, and I can only imagine the look on Edward's face when he sees me in…whatever this is.

"Thank you, Sue. I'm sure I'll love it."

"Okay, I'm next. We all know I'm way younger than you, Charles dear," teases Sue.

"Oh, wait a second, there's another gift here for Bella."

"What? Who's it from?"

"I don't know. No return address. Here, open it."

I take the mysterious envelope from my father, who is not one for games. I slide my finger under the sealed flap and reveal a travel itinerary. I read aloud, more confused than ever. "Departing Boston, Logan 9:12 AM, December 25th, arriving New York City, JFK 10:25 AM…Departing New York City, JFK 11:05 AM, arriving LAX 2:15 PM.

"DECEMBER 25th? TOMORROW? I'M GOING TO L.A. TOMORROW?" I'm out of my seat, hopping around the room like a pogo stick without its passenger. "I'm going to Edward! I get to see Edward! I have to call Edward!"

Dad is laughing, too, and jumps up to meet me on the floor. "Whoa, whoa, whoa there, little Energizer Bunny. You cannot call Edward."

"What? Why not?"

"You're a surprise Christmas present from his parents."

"Carlisle and Esme did this?"

"Yes. You're meeting Rosalie at JFK and the two of you are surprising them together."

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I have to call Rose!...Wait, can I call Rose?"

"Yes," he laughs, standing out of my way so he doesn't get hurt. "You can call Rose."

I shoot out of the room, heart pounding a mile a minute. I'm going to be with Edward tomorrow afternoon! In his arms! Attached to his lips! Gotta call Rose! I get ready to tap 'R' and speed dial her when all of a sudden I remember myself. I just ran out on Christmas Eve, and it was Sue's turn to open her presents. What a selfish little girl I'm being. I slip my phone back in my pocket and walk back into the Living Room.

"Sue, sorry. What did I miss?"

"You're done already? That was quick."

"No, I came back to see what you got."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Bella. Go call your friend! You can give me your present later!"

I love this woman! "Thanks, Sue!" I slide back out into the kitchen and hit 'R'.

"Hey Bella. Merry Christmas!"

"Rose, did you get the tickets?" I blurt.

"Yeah," she laughs. "I'm already packed."

"Packed? Oh my gosh, I have nothing to wear! I have absolutely nothing that fits me for warm weather. No shorts, no bathing suit, no short sleeve shirts! What am I gonna do? Everything's closed!" I wail.

"Bella, Bella, relax. I've already got you covered. I threw in extras of everything, and we'll go shopping when we get there. You'll be fine. Just bring some shoes and underwear and I'll take care of the rest."

"Oh Rose, you are the most wonderful roommate that ever graced the halls of Holden. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you for this. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, can you believe we get to see our Cullens?"

"I know. It's going to be such a hoot to surprise them. I talked to Esme earlier and she told me the boys will think they're picking up their Aunt Mabel!"

"Bwahahahaha! Aunt Mabel! They are going to fall over dead when we show up! Wait, Rose, there's only a one-way ticket in my envelope. When are we coming back?"

"We're not. We're going straight to school with them."

"You mean we're staying through New Year's? OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!"

Rose laughs with me through the phone. "And get this, Bella. They've also invited Jasper and Alice to come up for New Year's Eve! It's gonna be such a great time."

"I can't believe I have to keep this a secret from Edward. How am I gonna talk to him tonight and not tell him? He's gonna be all, 'Oh, I miss you so much,' and I'm gonna have to pretend and I've never lied to him and I totally suck at lying."

"Okay, first of all, no more sugar or caffeine for you. You're like a crazy person over there. Listen, you pull yourself together before you talk to him, because I don't want this surprise spoiled."

"Don't worry, Rose. I would never ruin it for them."

"All right. So I'll see you at our gate tomorrow at JFK."

"I can't wait!"

My face feels like it's going to break I'm smiling so hard. Sue and Seth and my dad are surrounded by a sea of torn wrapping paper. I grab the present I got for Sue and hand it to her first, trying really hard to contain my energy. I see a look pass between Dad and Sue, but I don't mind. "Merry Christmas, Sue," I say, handing her the package. She tears away the paper indelicately and reveals the latest Barefoot Contessa cookbook. "Oh, Bella, thank you! I love her books! What a great present!"

I give her a big hug, "I'm so glad you like it."

Dad says, "Why do I feel like that present was half for me?"

"No, Dad, your half is in here," I say, indicating his present. He opens the paper and chuckles when he sees that I've gotten him a brand new collection of Gladware, plastic containers in every size and shape so he can pack up food at Sue's and enjoy it at home or work.

"Perfect, Bells. Thank you. Well, should we move back in for dessert?"

"Wait, Dad, there's one more for you."

"What is this, Bella, a joke? More tickets from a mysterious benefactor?"

"No, Dad. This is from Edward," I explain, handing him the package.

"Edward? Really? Well, I'll be a blue-nosed gopher!" He's still shaking his head as he opens the present and he laughs out loud when he sees the talking bass. "This is awesome! I've seen this on TV!"

"It's all set up for you, Dad. He put the batteries in and rewrapped it."

"Let's hear it!" he says, hitting the remote. He laughs out loud as Billy sings, "Don't Worry, Be Happy."

My heart fills watching my father enjoy the gift that my boyfriend picked out for him. I only wish Edward could've seen his reaction, and that's when I remember my phone can take video. I quickly navigate to the video function and catch the end of the performance and Dad's howls of laughter.

**^EPOV^**

"Look, Carlisle, our favorite- _39 Steps_! Oh, Edward, this is such a thoughtful gift from you and Bella. You'll have to thank her for us immediately!"

Emmett pipes up, "You have her number, Dad. Why don't you thank her yourself?"

"Kid's gotta point there, Es. Well, something tells me Edward might be talking to her first."

"Speaking of which, may I be excused?"

"Sure, honey. And thanks again for our date night. It'll give us something to do once you boys go back to school."

"Ah yes, and our lonely, empty nest again becomes a sad place of despair," Dad says, winking at Mom.

"Here, Eddie. Don't wanna leave these lying around the house," Emmett says, tossing me the four boxes of condoms he got me for Christmas.

"Thanks, Em. You're too good to me."

"You may as well take these, too," Dad says, standing to hand me my new golf shoes and shirt.

"G'night everyone. See you in the morning."

I climb the stairs with a half-heavy heart. Not even Christmas can make up for the absence I'm feeling. It's getting late in Boston and I really need to catch Bella tonight. I dial before hitting the top step so she's already on the line when I roll onto my bed.

"Hey, Edward," she greets me, sounding way more chipper than I feel. Good. No reason for both of us to be sour and gloomy.

"Hey, B. So how was Christmas Eve?"

"Edward, wait till you see the video I sent you of Dad's face when Billy Bass sang. He was cracking up. He _loved _it. Big score!"

Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I smile despite myself. "That's great. My parents loved the movies, too. Turns out _39 Steps_ is Mom's favorite."

"Oh, that was lucky! So what did you get?" she prods.

"Mostly golf stuff. How about you?"

"Dad got me a beautiful book of Shakespeare sonnets."

"Oh," I respond, trying to be genuinely excited for her. "That's nice, I guess." _Lame._

She chuckles and says, "Edward, you _do_ know they're like the most romantic love poetry ever written, right?"

"No, Bella. Our haikus were the most romantic love poetry ever written."

"Yeah, Shakespeare's got nothing on us," she sighs heavily. "Oh and Seth got me a gift card to Thunder so I can go and get more workout clothes."

"Mmm," I close my eyes and remember Bella's tiny workout shorts. "More spandex!"

"Oh my gosh, you are such a horn dog!"

_No, if I were a horn dog, I'd be telling you about Emmett's gift!_ "Emmett really loved the collage you made him, by the way."

"Good, I'm glad."

Winding down, running out of steam, nothing much to say except the sad I miss you's and I love you's. "So what's a Swan Christmas like?"

Bella pauses, then says, "Well, this year is really different, with the Clearwaters and all. I guess I'll probably spend most of the day cooking with Sue. She's really great, Edward….anyway, I guess it will be pretty calm and relaxing. How about you guys?"

I roll my eyes to the ceiling. "Our Aunt Mabel is flying in from Phoenix- she's like 107 years old. Emmett and I get to spend our afternoon waiting for her at LAX, then wheeling her back to our house, then probably listening to stories about our third cousins twice removed." Heavy sigh.

"Oh, Edward, she can't be that bad," Bella tries hopefully.

"I miss you." Fuck, whiny bitch is back. Every time I promise myself I won't do this, but there it is. "Sorry, Bella. You're doing so well, and I'm…honestly? I'm a mess. Okay? I said it."

"Hey," she soothes gently. "Come on, there must be some part of your time at home that's good?"

"Sure, my family's great and I'm playing golf again, and the sun feels terrific on my skin. But I have zero desire to hang out with my old friends."

"What about Emmett?"

"He's all right, but he's got his squad, and he knows it's probably the last time he'll be home for a while, so he's making the most of it."

"I'm sorry, Baby," she says quietly. "Only 6 more days after we wake up tomorrow."

"Yeah." Silence. Breathing.

"I love you, Edward. Try not to be sad. Please? For me?"

"How are you doing this so much better than I am? What's your secret?"

Pause. "Well, first of all, your letter, which I've read 27 times. Also, I realized something yesterday, and I guess it helped."

"Please tell me. I could use the help."

"Even though you're not here right now, we've got each other. I really do carry you around with me everywhere I go, and it fills up my heart just to think about you."

"That's nice, Bella, but I'd rather have my arms around you."

"Just try it tomorrow, Edward. I love you. Merry Christmas?"

"Merry Christmas. Love you, too."

O)(O

"Talk to Bella?"

"Yeah. Talk to Rose?"

"Yeah. This fucking sucks," Emmett says, plopping down on the other side of my bed. His eyes move over to the corkboard. "Ah, the Wall of Shame."

"I'd rather refer to it as the Wonder Wall."

"Whatever. Geez, I never noticed before, they're all brunettes. Interesting…"

"Em," I warn, "I'm really not in a very good mood."

"Here. I brought you the other half of your present," he says, pulling from behind his back a large bottle of Grey Goose with a sad excuse for a ribbon on top.

"Nice wrapping," I jest, sitting up and taking notice.

"Haha, little bro. No, the _other_ gift was the wrapping."

"Well, at least I can _use_ this gift!"

He socks me lightly in the arm. "Hey, come on. It's only another week."

I turn my face to the wall, then wish I hadn't.

"What?" he questions. _Damn Emmett._

"Wait, you guys aren't…you haven't…are you telling me that you guys have been going out all semester and you're not getting _any_?"

"Emmett, I can't talk to you about this. Thanks for the vodka, now would you please get the fuck out?"

Emmett does the exact opposite and flops backwards on the bed, making himself comfortable and settling in for a long talk that we're not going to have.

"Fuck, Em, I mean it. If that's all you think about your own girlfriend, there's no way you could possibly understand what's going on between Bella and me."

"Hey, man, of course that's not how I think of Rosie. She's special. We're in love."

"Well, so are _we_," I argue, turning back to face him, even though I know my face is red with anger and desperation.

"Okay, okay. I take it back. I'm sorry."

I feel some of the tension leave my shoulders, and my fists unclench. "We're just taking things at a different pace, and I don't fucking need your judgmental comments."

Emmett looks over at me, hands folded behind his head, and smiles. It doesn't seem like a condescending smile, but sometimes I can't figure him out.

"What's that for?" I can't resist asking.

"I was just thinking back to my emergency intervention over the coochie situation."

"Oh . Another high point in my life." I sit up and draw my knees to my chest, fold my arms over and drop my head down. "Thanks for bringing that up," I mumble into my knees.

Emmett taps my leg to get my attention.

"What the _fuck_, Em? You know you're crazy bad at cheering people up? I mean, when you go for your psych rotation, you better come with a warning sign. 'Caution, I have been known to make depressed people feel way worse.'"

He chuckles deeply and says, "I'll have to remember that one. Thanks for the tip."

I give him the dirtiest look I can muster, and he softens his tone. "Hey, what I was gonna say was that I'll take this mess of a guy next to me right now _any_ day over that kid who was messing around on the road."

He sounds sincere, and I remember back to how he helped me patch things up with Bella, and how disappointed he'd been in me to learn about my indiscretions. Emmett doesn't show this side to the world very often, but it's the reason he's my most trusted friend. I unwind myself and relax back onto my side of the bed, stretching out my long legs and enjoying the fact that there's enough bed down there to support all of me.

Sensing my openness, Emmett continues, speaking to the ceiling, "Don't quote me on this, but it takes a pretty big man to take things slow."

I answer, straight up to the same piece of plaster, "Thanks, Emmett."

Emmett shifts his head to look at me. "I'm proud of you, little brother. You're turning out to be a good guy."

Fuck, the tears are nipping at my eyes, and I blink them away and pray I don't sniffle like a pussy. I'd like to tell him right now that I'm proud of him, too, and I respect him as a brother and a man, but I can't speak without choking up, and I just can't risk it.

So I let him continue, "I've seen lots of guys take a bad turn in college. Especially athletes. I mean, let's face it, opportunities abound. We've all had chances to take advantage of the situation. You're a good-looking guy, and a total stud on the golf course, and on top of that, you've got this openness about you that I guess must be really appealing or some such shit."

And now, he's letting me laugh, which is a huge fucking relief. But still, I'm silent.

"You made a couple of bad choices early on, but you faced them, and now look at you."

"Yeah, look at me," I can't help but blurt. "I'm lying in bed with my brother, whining like a little bitch about missing my girlfriend."

He chuckles. "Okay, at this particular moment, you're not exactly the image of happiness. But big picture? Take a look at where you are after your first semester. Top of your division in golf, sounds like at least a 3.5 average, and you've got yourself a fantastic girl. And I think you've got what it takes to keep all of those things going in the right direction."

I pinch my eyes closed with my fingers in the least obvious move to clear the tears. "Thanks, Emmett. Your opinion means a lot to me."

"You want to crack open that Grey Goose tonight?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Hang on, I'll go grab a couple of shot glasses from my room. Be right back."

I watch Emmett go and think about what Bella said. Maybe she's right. Maybe just carrying her in my heart will be enough to get me through the next seven days without her. Or then again, maybe I'll have to work my way through this whole bottle of vodka.

_Seven more days_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Yeah, right. Like I was gonna make them wait 10 days? Pshhhh! **~BOH**


	19. Christmas

**12/25/2011 CHRISTMAS**

**~BPOV~  
><strong>"Dad, thanks again for making these arrangements with Carlisle and letting me go."

He laughs as he sets my suitcase down at the curb. "You think I'd be fool enough to stand between you and Edward? You go get him, Tiger."

I throw my arms around his neck. "Thanks for everything, Daddy. And Merry Christmas."

"You too, Honey. It was great having you to myself for a few days again."

"Same here."

"Want me to help you in with that?"

"No, Dad, you can't keep your car here. They'll shoo you away."

He smiles knowingly and I laugh at myself for forgetting for one minute that he's the boss of all these stern-looking men, busy blowing whistles and bullying all the holiday travelers. "I'm good, Dad, thanks."

"Safe trip."

O)(O

Despite the fact that I had to set my alarm at 6:30 this morning, I'm far too keyed up to close my eyes on the way to New York. And when I deplane at JFK, I'm greeted by a Rosalie with about twenty times as much energy. We squeal and hug and generally make a silly nuisance of ourselves until it's time to reboard. The Cullens have arranged for Rose to have the seat next to mine, so we spend the next six hours catching up about our time apart and visualizing the reunion scene with our boys.

"So how's Emmett been on the phone?"

She leans in and giggles. "Sexy as fuck. I swear that man can dirty talk…"

"Okay, let's just hold that thought, shall we?"

"Hey," she shrugs, "don't knock it till you try it."

"That's not exactly our style, Rose."

"Well, too bad for you. How's Little Cullen been?"

"Sad and mopey, mostly. At least, on the phone with me."

"Awww. That's kinda sweet."

I roll my eyes.

"Come on, Bella, you have to admit, it's pretty hot that he's so lost without you. He _needs_ you."

I shift in my seat. "Are you saying Emmett doesn't need you?" I draw out the word 'need' the same way she did.

"Heck, yeah, he needs me! But I feel like Emmett and I are more…a couple, you now, two separate people who come together and make this third thing. Whereas you and Edward feel more like…well, one person. Does that make any sense?"

"Well, that would explain why it feels like half of me has been missing for the last few days."

"Don't get me wrong, Bella, it's not like I don't miss Emmett something fierce. It's just…have you ever seen two trees grow around each other? They're both still distinctly different trees, but their root systems start sharing soil and water and sun, and their trunks and limbs start curling together. You can always make out the different leaves, but those trees will never be apart again. That's us."

"That's pretty poetic right there, Rose."

"Hey, you're not the only one who took Comp Sem last semester," she winks.

"Okay, so if you two are the tangly trees, what are we?" I ask, curious for the rest of her analogy.

"You two produce a hybrid together."

I guffaw, "You mean, like a Prius?"

"No, not a car. A flower," she ponders, "like a lily. Did you know that most of the lilies you see today are a cross breed of two different species?"

"Um, no." I never paid much attention to what was growing in Mom's garden, and everything died long before I would've taken an active interest. "You're a lily aficionado?"

"Sort of. The bio-engineering aspect of it fascinates me. Besides, my mom is president of the local garden club, so she knows all this stuff backwards and forwards."

"Is that why they named you Rose?"

"I don't know. Probably. Anyway, there are certain species of flowers that are hybrids, and they never could've come into existence without someone intervening and joining the two separate species together. That's what you guys are- the hybrid," she finishes matter-of-factly.

I ponder that for a while. "Are you saying we've lost ourselves in this new thing? I don't still get to have my own leaves?"

"Not in a bad way, but I see it that you guys are sprouting new leaves and flowers together. Every new growth is part you, part him."

"So which is better? The tangled trees or the new flower?"

"Neither. They both just are. That's what makes Mother Nature so awesome."

O)(O

"Rose, I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Ugh, I told you not to eat that disgusting fish. Come on, you'll feel better when we get off this plane."

My stomach has been flopping around for the last half hour, and I don't think it's all due to the soggy cod or rocky landing. It's being so close to Edward. I can feel it.

The second we hit the terminal, Rose beats to her power walk pace, and I suddenly can't take another step. I dive into the bathroom and open the stall just in time to barf out everything I ate on the plane. I instantly feel better, the nausea completely leaving and only a few fluttery nerves left in its place.

Gathering myself together, I splash my face at the sink and try to fix my appearance. Luckily, I've got toothbrush and toothpaste in my carry-on. I brush through my hair and apply a thin coat of lip gloss, conflicted over looking good for Edward and not wanting a barrier between our lips when they meet. Like _now_. Edward is waiting just down the hallway!

I step out of the bathroom feeling human again and Rose is nowhere to be found. She's probably already in Emmett's arms, and I've missed the surprise. I sling my oversized purse over one shoulder and set myself to the task of getting to the baggage claim. My phone buzzes and I dig it out.

_Where R U?_

I press 'R' and wait for her petulant voice to answer. "Bella, where'd you go? I got all the way to the escalator and I turned around and you were gone!"

"Sorry to inconvenience you, Rose, but I had to stop to vomit."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. Listen, I'm waiting for you on the other side of Security."

"So you haven't seen them yet? They don't know we're here?"

"Of course not. I would never do that without you! Now get your bony ass down here already, would ya?"

"Coming!" Tossing my phone back into my bag, I jog down the hall, looking like yet another frantic traveler about to miss a flight.

**^EPOV^  
><strong>"This banner is just adding insult to injury," I whine.

"Mom seemed to think the old lady wouldn't recognize us after all these years."

"Right, like there are so many other people here she'd mistake for her great-nephews," I muse, looking around at the nearly empty terminal.

"Whatever. Suck it up, Edward. She's coming down that elevator in a minute, and we're going to grab onto her wheelchair and plaster on our happy faces, hangovers or not."

"Sure," I grimace, holding the 'Welcome, Aunt Mabel' banner up to my chest and wallowing in self-pity. Merry fucking Christmas to me. "At least the 'Baggage Claim' label is appropriate," I chuckle. "Though it should probably read, "Old Bag Claim."

"Nice, Eddie. Put a lid on it, will ya? Here come the passengers now."

"How do you know this is the flight from Phoenix?"

"I don't know. They look…Phoenician."

"Brilliant, Em. Well, where is she?"

"I don't know. I think they do the wheelchairs last."

"Oh my God. Shoot me now," I mumble miserably.

"You are fucking pathetic, you know that?" he grins.

"Sue me."

"Jesus, Edward, how on earth are you going to manage this summer if you're like this after three days? I don't even want to be in the same state with you if you two are separated!"

"Oh, another jolly topic. Thanks, Em, you really know how to lift a guy's spirits!"

"That's why I come with a warning label, remember?"

I just glare at him, and he glares back. And we're at a standoff. Both tired and hung over and missing our girls and standing here in Baggage Claim like two lame-ass losers waiting for the rest of our Very Cullen Christmas to pull us completely under.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket.

_E-She arrive yet? Reply when you see her and I'll pull around the SUV._

"Um, Ed?"

"Yeah?" I say absently, scrolling through earlier messages, rereading the one sent by Bella around 11 her time.

_E-Merry XMAS. Remember, I'll be in your heart all day and you're in mine. xb_

"Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is that-"

I look up, puzzled, to check out this optical illusion. I follow Emmett's line of vision to the opposite end of the Arrival Hall, and there, mounting the top step of the escalator, are two girls who look an awful lot like ours. We throw down the sign and run.

My stupid competitive brother throws an illegal football block out in front of my chest, slowing me down, like always, so he can get there first. But I am what you'd call highly motivated at the moment, and I flick him off like an errant crumb. We're neck and neck, Emmett noses ahead, and I kick my legs under me and pump my arms. I feel Emmett straining- he's quick but he hasn't done a lick of exercise since football season ended-I reach with my chest, pushing through the imaginary tape, and I'm at the escalator a good half-second before him. The two of us are huffing and puffing and we look up as our girls reach the midway point on the moving staircase.

_Gimme!_

"Fuck this," I pant, kicking off my flip flops and pushing my way up the first few steps, excusing myself as I press past surprised travelers. I hear Emmett's deep laughter below me. He's not joining me.

_Gimme, gimme!_ My brain is on an infinite one-word loop.

I peek up the stairs, and it costs me two steps of backward motion, but I have to see Bella's face. I'm right on line with her now, and the other passengers are catching on and moving out of my way. I tuck my head down and push myself as hard as I can. This is a long, steep stairway, and there are probably 50 downward moving steps between me and heaven.

_Gimme, gimme, GIMME!_

My days of golf conditioning, with the dreaded running of the stadium stairs, flood my muscle memory. Quads and buttocks straining, sweat breaking out everywhere- oh fuck, I'm gonna be a stinky mess by the time I get to her. Then I recall our sweaty post-workout session, and I know she couldn't care less how I look or smell. Because it's Bella, and I can hear her giggling now. And everything's burning and my lungs are on fire, but then her feet come into my range of vision. And my eyes travel up her bare legs to her knees and her short jeans skirt, and I briefly consider peeking up that skirt from this vantage point, but then her hands reach out to the back of my head to pull me in, and she's real! My eyes crawl up her tight little yellow tank top, and they're tempted to stop right there, but no, I have to see her face! Neck, chin, lips, nose, and finally, finally, finally, her dancing eyes.

"Surprise!" she cries, pulling my head up to hers, dazzling me with her bright happy smile.

I fight for breath, and pant out the only word my oxygen-deprived brain can reach, "GIMME!"

She giggles some more and I can't wait another second to taste her. My arms wrap around her middle and I pull her chest against mine and I take one last breath before diving into her lips. I'm sucking a whole roomful of air in through my nose because there's no way in hell I'm letting any space between our mouths.

I am moaning like a wild beast and she lets out a surprised squeal before relaxing into me. I feel a protective arm at my back, and I realize Rose is making sure we don't tumble to our death. Death by Escalator Macking.

Reality starts to seep in around the edges of my consciousness, and I become aware that all around us, people are clapping and cheering and whistling loudly.

"Better turn around, Sonic," Emmett's voice booms out, and I twist around just in time to step over the landing, heel first, lifting Bella over the threshold and spinning her away from the crowd.

Meanwhile, I see Rose jump off into Emmett's waiting arms, kissing him deeply before complaining, "Now, why didn't you run up there and get me like your romantic brother?"

Loud enough for most of the passersby to hear, he booms, "I'm saving myself for later, Baby!"

She dissolves into a fit of laughter, and it's clear that we're the four happiest people on the planet right now.

I pull back from Bella, finally, and allow us both to breathe. But so many questions are swimming in my mind. "How did you-?"

"Your parents," she answers simply.

"Fuck! Em! Aunt Mabel! We totally forgot!"

I search frantically for the long-abandoned banner and Emmett's laughter cuts into my efforts. "Dude. Aunt Mabel is already here. Don't you get it?"

"What? Oh. Ohhh." Everyone's laughing at me, and I feel like a dope, but a supremely happy dope. Emmett slaps my shoes against my chest.

"Let's go get their bags."

I slide into my flip flops and throw my arm around Bella. "I cannot believe you're here! How long have you known?"

"Since last night."

"You knew when we talked?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that. It was so hard not to tell you."

"You could've saved me a whole night of anguish. You owe me, Bella," I threaten, stealing another kiss.

"Noted," she answers. "But then, would you have done the whole heroic escalator thing? Because that was an awesome greeting, Edward."

"Hell no. I would've been waiting up top for you. By the way, would it have killed you to come down a few steps?"

"I didn't want to spoil your moment."

"Oh, very considerate of you, thank you."

She ruffles her hand through my recently clipped hair and smiles. "This reminds me of how you looked when I first met you. It's kind of like starting all over again."

"No offense, Bella, but you look way hotter than when I first met you. Are you trying to kill me with that outfit?"

She giggles, "Rose brought it for me on the plane. I have no clothes that fit me from last summer."

"Oh," I waggle my eyebrows, "does that mean you're going to be scampering around in your underwear all…how long _are_ you staying?"

"New Year's," she says matter-of-factly, as if it's not the best gift I've received for Christmas since my Hot Wheels Super-Turbo Race Track when I was five.

"New Year's? Really? That's awesome! I can't believe we get to spend the rest of vacation together! I'm not really sure I could've made it another week."

"Kiss me some more, Edward."

My hands find their way to her back pockets as I draw her in and kiss her properly. If not for the obnoxious buzzer signaling the baggage drop, I'm quite sure my hands would have wandered further south to the tops of those tantalizingly bare thighs.

As I reluctantly release her, she smirks and asks, "What kind of kiss was that?"

"That would be my 'Thank-fucking-Christ-you're-not-Aunt-Mabel' kiss."

Clutching Bella's suitcase with one hand and her hand with the other, I watch for Dad's car at the curb. He hops out and checks out the ridiculously happy looks on his sons' faces before greeting Bella and Rose. "Pretty dirty trick with that banner," I complain half-heartedly.

"That was your mother's idea," he chuckles warmly, circling his arms around both girls at once. "Merry Christmas, girls."

"Merry Christmas, Carlisle," they say in chorus.

"It is now," he laughs. "Maybe these two will be a little more fun to be around now that you two are here," he says, shaking his head. "All right, who's riding up front with me?"

He looks at each one of us, lost in our partner, and says, "Screw it, put the luggage up front. I'm not breaking up this party."

"Thanks, Dad," Emmett says, diving into the way back with Rose.

I eagerly pull Bella into the back seat with me and basically stare at her with this big, goofy smile on my face the entire trip back. She keeps her legs tightly locked together, but I imagine how it would feel to slip my hand onto her knee, then up her silky soft thighs, between her legs, and just under the edge of that little denim skirt. And I'm rock hard before we exit the airport. I settle for looping my arm through hers and interlacing our fingers instead. I can't even speak, I am so stupidly happy.

I catch Dad's eyes in the rear-view mirror, and he asks, "Edward, why do you look like you just ran the 400-meter dash?"

O)(O

Mom unties her apron and rushes to the door. "Oh, girls, welcome, welcome. Merry Christmas." The three of them are a blur of thank-you's and hugs. The three of us guys watch dumbly with huge smiles on our faces. I just can't seem to stop smiling.

"Now this finally feels like Christmas," Dad says proudly.

"This is the best present ever, Dad. Thank you so much for arranging it."

"It's our pleasure, boys."

"So how did you do this? You must've talked to their folks?" Emmett asks.

"We did. Of course, we'd met the Hales back during visiting weekend and exchanged numbers then, so that was easy. But Bella, well, that took a little more doing. I looked up the Police Chief on the City of Boston website, got his phone number, and called him at work."

"Oh. How'd that go?"

"He can be a little intimidating."

"Tell me about it," I chuckle, remembering our first meet and greet before Thanksgiving.

"But when he heard what we were trying to do, he softened right up and said they'd do their family celebration on Christmas Eve and Bella was all ours for Christmas."

"He said that?"

"He did."

_All ours_. I like that.

**~BPOV~  
><strong>"Come, girls, let me get you settled in. Boys, bring their suitcases, would you please?"

We follow Esme upstairs, and everything Edward wrote about his bedroom comes rushing back into my mind. Trophy case. King bed. Wall of Shame. Edward is padding up the stairs at the back of the line, no doubt feeling every bit as nervous as I did showing him my childhood bedroom.

Esme turns left and I hear low, unhappy grumbling from behind us, which she ignores. She pushes open the door to a bright and cheery guest room with two twin beds and its own bathroom. "Here you are, girls. Everything you need should be in the bathroom. Fresh towels, shampoo, help yourself and let me know if you need anything."

Emmett and Edward are standing outside the door, holding on to our luggage, but making no move to come in.

"Boys…" she scolds mildly.

"Come on, Ma," Emmett whines. "I'm 21."

I watch and listen while Emmett pleads his case. If he can't sway her, there's no way Edward and I will be allowed to stay together. She turns and pinches his cheek. "I remember. I was there when you were born."

He rolls his eyes but doesn't budge. "Now look, the girls are guests in our home, and it's my job to provide them with a comfortable place to stay and some good home-cooking. Who's to say what happens after Dad and I retire for the night?"

She punctuates her little hint with a loving tap on his cheek. Emmett's whole face brightens and he trudges in with the suitcase. Edward follows, barely looking at his mom as he brushes past.

"Why don't we leave the girls to freshen up? They've had a long trip, especially Bella."

Yes, and the vomit session at the end was particularly delightful. I could definitely use some freshening.

"Christmas supper's at five, everyone. See you downstairs then? And Edward," she turns up her nose, "I think Our Lord and Savior would appreciate it if you took a shower, too." The rest of us crack up at his expense.

We kiss our boys and they leave, pulling the door closed behind them.

O)(O

"Here, take your pick," Rose says, laying out three different Christmas-appropriate outfits, each more beautiful than the next. I pick a conservative V-neck top and wrap-around skirt, and she chuckles knowingly.

"I'll let you off the hook with that one, but only because the 'rents are here."

"Gee thanks," I smile, pulling on the outfit, which fits me perfectly. "Rose, thanks again. The clothes are great."

She waves her hand as if to say, "It's nothing," and I realize she must have closets filled with great clothes, judging by the sample she brought to Holden with her. "Hurry up, will ya? I can't wait to get downstairs."

I swipe my gloss and slip into my sandals, hoping Edward will like the home pedicure I hastily performed last night. "Ready," I say.

O)(O

Edward hears us first, and I catch his head as it whips around the back of the couch. He pops up to greet me, and I see that he's not only showered, but he's also dressed in his Christmas finery- skinny tan dress slacks and a short-sleeved royal blue button-down with the sleeves just tight enough to hug his biceps. He looks positively delectable from his freshly washed tamer-than-usual hair, down his smoothly shaven face, past the tempting triangle of tanned skin just above his top button, right on down through the belt buckle, and oh just below it, every last inch, in fact, to the tips of his loafers.

He takes my hands in his and gives me a sweet, gentle kiss. "You look really beautiful, Bella."

_Gulp_. "So do you," I whisper. His face crinkles into a huge grin, and he draws me to a chair at the table, which he pulls out for me. I almost forget there are other people in the room for a minute. And before I sit down, I ask, "Esme, can I help you in the kitchen?"

"No, dear, just relax. I have some help today so we can all just relax and enjoy ourselves."

Emmett and Rose settle in across from us, and Carlisle and Esme take the head and foot of the table. Esme places her hands on the table, face up, and all the Cullens automatically imitate her gesture. Edward and Emmett grasp their mother's hands, and they wait for mine and Rose's, which we quickly provide. Carlisle begins, "We used to say a simple prayer for Christmas, but ever since Emmett left for Holden and we haven't had the whole family together for Thanksgiving, this tradition just sort of migrated to Christmas. We just go around the table, and share what we're grateful for. I'll start.

"I'm profoundly happy for the good health of my family, and the successes of my sons. I'm grateful for the successes I've had with my patients this year, helping them live happier and healthier lives. I'm thankful for the gift of loving relationships and the two beautiful additions to our holiday table this year. And as ever, I'm grateful for, and to, the love of my life, my dear Esme."

Carlisle squeezes my hand lightly, letting me know it's my turn. "I have to follow that?" I worry out loud.

Everyone laughs lightly, and Esme says, "Take your time, dear."

I gather my thoughts, and I feel Edward's hand squeeze mine a little tighter. "Okay…here goes. I'm grateful for Edward, most of all, and I'm pretty sure he knows why." I feel his eyes on me, but I keep my head down or I know I won't be able to get through this. "I'm grateful for this loving, generous family, and for the best Christmas surprise I've ever gotten before." Tears prickle, but I push on. "I'm thankful that my father has finally found his own happiness, and I'm thankful for Sue for taking such good care of him. And I'm so grateful that Rose is my roommate, and thank you Rose," I'm about to lose it, "for helping me dig myself out from everything I was hiding behind," sob, sob, "and helping me figure out who I really am." Soft tears and tighter squeezes on both sides. "Sorry," I say softly.

"Don't be," Carlisle answers quickly. "That was beautiful."

I turn my head to Edward and whisper urgently, "Go!"

"I think that might have been the tougher act to follow," he says, then clears his throat. "But you'll be happy to know, Bella, that I made myself an outline, which I memorized. For the first time in my life, I'm grateful for my dyslexia, because if I hadn't been the weakest writer in the class, Banner never would've paired me with the strongest. And I wouldn't have gotten to know you, Bella, at least not as quickly or as well. Not to mention, I seriously doubt I would've gotten an 'A' in Comp Sem with a different partner, but that's just the icing on the cake. You're the cake, Bella."

Emmett interrupts, "Cuppy-uppy-upcake?"

"Emmett!" Esme says crossly. "Edward, continue please."

I catch Emmett's eye before he looks back down, and he gives me a knowing wink.

"You're my non-caloric reward, Bella Swan. And if you're not sure how grateful I am, I will be sure to show you later."

"Ahem," Esme clears her throat dramatically.

"Sorry, Mom," Edward says aloud, then stage whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, "Not really," sending all of us into a fit of laughter. "I, too, am grateful to you, Rose, for taking such good care of my Bella, at times and in ways that I couldn't. And you, ya big lug of a big brother, I'm thankful for you, too. Underneath all that muscle, there's a heart of gold. Mom and Dad, thank you for the best Christmas present ever, but more importantly, thank you for teaching me how to sustain a loving relationship and showing me how great it can be to share your life with someone else, and making me want that for myself."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Edward, go get me a Kleenex!" Esme says, breaking the tension for a brief moment. Edward releases my hand and brings the box back to the table, offering it to his mother first.

"Anyone else?" he asks, passing it around, and finally setting it down on the table.

Esme mops her face and takes his hand again. "I'm so grateful for the fact that our sons have lovely taste in women, and thank the good lord for all our good health and good fortune."

"Rose. I'm grateful for Rose," Emmett says simply.

Rose giggles next to him. "That's it?" she whispers.

"Baby, you're enough. Besides, I'm starving!"

"In that case," Rosalie says, "I'm grateful for Emmett, and the rest of the Cullens, for putting his sweet, gorgeous self in this world, and letting the rest of us share him. And Little Cullen, I'm really grateful you turned out to be a good guy, too. And for Bella, the sweetest, kindest, most loyal roommate a girl could ask for."

"A-MEN!" Emmett says, giving Rosalie a kiss.

"Amen," the rest of us chime in.

**^EPOV^  
><strong>"Tired?" I ask Bella, nudging at her neck gently with my nose and lips. We're spread out around the room in pairs, and nobody's paying much attention to anyone else.

"Mmm," she answers, throwing her head back along the arm I've got extended behind her and closing her eyes blissfully.

I draw my thumb along the soft patch of skin starting at the base of her ear and traveling down her jaw line, causing her to purr again and turn up the very edges of her lips.

"You've had a really long day, and it's 2 in the morning in Boston," I say softly into her neck.

"Don't remind me," she says.

Dad stands and reaches a hand to help Mom off their love seat. "We're turning in now. G'night, everyone. Edward?"

"Yeah?" I say sleepily.

"I want to show you how to use that new coffeepot," he says mysteriously, gesturing with his eyes to the kitchen.

"Oh-kay?" Planting a kiss at the base of her neck, I tell Bella I'll be right back, and follow Dad to the kitchen.

"We have a new coffeepot?"

"No. I just wanted to remind you in private that I'll be drawing your blood in the morning, so don't eat or drink anything until then. And I have to leave at 6:30 tomorrow, so can you set your alarm?"

I groan, but he's doing me a giant favor. "Sure, thanks, Dad."

He pulls me in for a hug. "Okay. Merry Christmas, son."

"Thanks for my present, Dad."

"Oh, you really like those new golf shoes, huh?"

"Yeah, right."

He winks at me and I follow him back out to the Living Room. Emmett and Rose are smushed together on the antique armchair, making out like…well, like I'd like to be with Bella. But she happens to be sound asleep on the couch.

"Bella," I say, my lips right next to her ear. "Time to get up so you can go to bed."

"That makes no sense. What's the point?" she complains sleepily.

I lean in and close my lips over hers, startling her awake. Once she realizes where she is, she opens her mouth and kisses me back. "_That's_ the point, Baby. Let's go." I give her a hand, and she lets me pull her off the couch and drag her up the stairs.

"'Night, guys," I call, fully expecting to be ignored.

Bella practically sleepwalks down the hall to her room. I give her a soft kiss at the door. "Need any help unwrapping that skirt? After all, you _are_ my present."

She giggles sleepily, "Thanks, I think I can handle it."

"Meet me in my room when you're changed?"

"Sure, see you in a little bit."

"Bella, I'm so glad you're here," I say for the eightieth time today.

"Me, too. I'll be right over."

"Okay. No dawdling."

She spins away and into her room and lightly closes the door. I reach my room and quickly take care of my pre-bedtime preparations. I've been sleeping in the nude since I've been home, enjoying my privacy and the luxurious feel of my sheets against my bare skin. With not only Bella, but Rose in the house, I grab a pair of boxers just in case a fire breaks out during the night. I set my alarm for 6:10 with an internal groan, turn off the lights, and slide under the covers. And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And then I realize, she's not coming.

I slip out of bed and tiptoe down the hall, finding her door shut just the way I left it. I knock softly and push open the door. Bella is sprawled on top of her bed, wearing a pair of boxers and a tank top, and she's sound asleep on top of the covers. I feel a tug at my heart, and I walk over to her bed and just watch her sleep for a minute or two. Then I set to work, peeling the covers down underneath her body and bringing them back up over her and tucking her in.

"G'night, Baby," I whisper, leaning over to give her a delicate kiss on the cheek.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: At the gentle urging of **chartwilightmom** (a gorgeous picture prompt I couldn't resist), I've dipped my pen into **slashy** ink for the first time! If you're game, check out **http:/www . fanfiction . net/s/6448546/46/Squeeze_My_Lemon** . You won't want to miss the sexy picture prompt or **J****arkin33**'s smokin' hot banner for the story at **dirtycheekymonkeys dot blogspot dot com **. If you leave a review, I'll get it and respond. MERRY CHRISTMAS! ~BOH


	20. After Christmas

**12/26/2011**

**^EPOV^**

My alarm blares, and I feel the inevitable irritation that comes with being woken out of a sound sleep. My first thought is, "Bella's here!" followed by, "Dad needs my blood."

I throw on a pair of shorts and find Dad in the kitchen. He's got all the equipment laid out and labeled.

"Morning," I say, voice scratchy with sleep.

"Have a seat."

He reaches for my arm and quickly locates a vein. As he ties the rubber tubing, he starts a distracting chatter. "So, what are you kids gonna do after serving at the Mission today?"

I feel the pinch. "I don't know, whatever the girls want. Maybe go to Wild Rivers or find a concert somewhere."

"That sounds fun," he says, concentrating on his needles and tubes.

"How long will it take before you get the results?"

"Why? Have big plans?" His eyes flick to my face for the answer.

"No. I just want to put Bella's mind at ease."

"Most of the results are back in two to three days. A couple of the tests take a little longer. I'll let you know when I hear from the lab. Here, hold this," he says, placing my finger over the little square patch of gauze until he can get the tape over it.

"Thanks, Dad."

"No problem. You guys have a good day. I'll see you later. And Edward? Don't forget your Mom wants to see you a little bit, too, this week."

"Okay."

I climb back up the steps with every intention of going back to bed, but my feet make their way over to the guest room, and I quietly push open the door. Rose's bed is untouched, and Bella hasn't moved since I tucked her in last night. I pull off my shorts and slip under the covers behind her. Her body is warm, and I snuggle in closer, encircling her with my arm and dropping my face to her shoulder. She stirs, lets out a contented little sigh and promptly falls back asleep.

**~BPOV~**

I wake with a start in a strange bed I don't remember falling asleep in. But I'm immediately comforted by the familiar form of my warm, sleepy Edward pressed along my back; his muscular arm heavy across my middle and his knees tucked up under mine, forming a sturdy seat. I wriggle back into the welcoming curve of his body and hum contentedly. I do not ever want to move.

Pity then when Rosalie pushes through the door half an hour later and shakes us awake. "Wake up. Esme's making breakfast and I don't think Edward's supposed to be in here."

Edward stirs and tightens his arm around me. "Mmmmmm," he says, squirming and pushing into me. I can feel his excitement through both sets of boxers.

I twist my head as far as I can in this awkward position. "Edward," I whisper. "You have to go."

"Nope," he grumbles.

"Come on. Your mom…"

"…doesn't care."

"Rose is in here."

"Close your eyes, Rose," he calls to the other side of the room, still not opening his eyes.

"Hey! You!" I mash my rear end into his lap. "Out. You. Go!"

A low rumbling laugh issues forth from his chest. "Okay, baby, you asked for it," he says, and reaches for his fly.

"Edward! That's not what I meant!"

He opens his eyes and finally takes me seriously. "You really want me to go?"

"Of course I don't, but I don't want your mom to think I'm a slut."

"But you're only a slut for me. She would totally respect that."

"Somehow I doubt that," I chuckle. "Go put some clothes on and I'll meet you downstairs."

He slinks out of bed and pulls on his shorts. "Later, girls!"

"Gah!"

"What's wrong, Bella? You guys didn't get your fill last night?"

"I fell asleep. I think the jetlag got me."

"Ouch. No wonder he's hurting. I can't imagine what Emmett would've done if I hadn't relieved some of the buildup last night!"

"Ew, Rose. Really?"

"Bella, you do understand how these things work, don't you? It's like a blocked up drain that just keeps getting more and more backed up…"

"Okay, thank you for that colorful picture."

"Just sayin', Bella. You have got to take care of your man."

O)(O

"Good morning, girls," Esme greets us. "Have the boys told you about our Boxing Day tradition?"

"Boxing Day?" Rose asks, looking to me for explanation. Never heard of it.

"Day after Christmas," she explains. "It's celebrated in many countries outside of the US, and we've made it our family tradition to prepare a meal at the Union Rescue Mission. Well, Carlisle can hardly ever come because he usually takes Christmas off and works on the 26th, but this year, we'll have two more sets of hands. They'll be so pleased."

"What a great tradition," Rose comments. "When do we go?"

"Just after breakfast, and we'll be there till about three. Boys, you'll load the food trays into the car?"

"Sure, Mom," Emmett answers right away.

We eat a quick breakfast and pile into the SUV. The shelter's about half an hour away, and they are, indeed, most pleased to see us. While Esme and the boys set to unpacking and organizing, Rose and I are greeted by Delilah, the manager of the mission.

"Loads of folks like to come on Christmas, but usually by the day after, we're back in the shadows, so it's always great when the Cullens come," she explains.

She shows us all to our workstations, and we prepare the afternoon meal, side by side. Around one o'clock, the residents pile in and start working their way through the food line. Edward is up front, talking with the residents and serving food with a natural ease that immediately makes people comfortable. I love seeing this side of him, and Esme does as well, judging from the glowing look in her eyes as she watches him. Emmett is especially good with the children, and soon the dining hall is filled with chatter and laughter. I'm filled with warmth and pride to be associated with this loving, generous family.

O)(O

"What's it going to be ladies?" Emmett asks after we drop Esme back at the house. "Want to take in the zoo? A water park?"

"I'm still getting used to the fact that it's warm and sunny. Can we just sit outside and sunbathe?"

"Rose, I don't have a bathing suit that fits!"

"Well, I suppose we need to go shopping then," she answers, causing our men to look at each other in that way men often do when shopping is mentioned.

"You guys don't have to come," I offer, "but I was really hoping I might get your opinion, Edward. I was thinking about buying my first bikini, but I'm sure Rose can-"

"We'll come!" And then, he adds, "As long as I get a front row ticket to the show."

"I'm pretty sure that can be arranged," I answer sweetly.

O)(O

Edward is crammed into the corner of my tiny dressing booth, perched awkwardly atop a cheap plastic stool and buried in layers of swim apparel. And the grin on his face could not possibly be any wider.

"I can't believe they let you back here with me," I shake my head with a smile.

"What? It's a unisex beach store. They have to," he reasons.

"But you're not trying anything on," I argue back.

"Get to work, woman," he urges, offering me the bright yellow string bikini with the tiniest top first. Figures.

I turn my back to him, and he protests with a loud groan, which cuts off when I toss my bra at him over my shoulder and reach back for the top.

He places it into my waiting hand and says, "Let me know if you need any help adjusting the cups or anything."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Helpful," I snort, packaging myself into the top and tying off the ends securely.

"Aren't you going to take off your underwear?"

"No, read the signs. It's not hygienic," I inform him, pointing to the sign above his head and waiting for him to hand me the skimpy bottom.

"Hygiene, Shmygiene," he grumbles, as I pull on what there is to pull on. There's no mirror inside the room, so I turn around and let Edward's reaction be my guide. His eyes light up and his mouth drops open, and the only question is, can I go out in public like this?

"You like?" I ask rhetorically. He nods dumbly and swallows hard.

I roll my eyes and pull back the curtain so I can look in the mirror at the end of the hallway. Damn, I look _fine_! I turn slowly and enjoy the fact that my entire ass is inside the material, not hanging below or squeezing out around the sides. I love the way my legs look, muscular and lean. There are spots where extra skin hangs, and I know I probably can't do much to change that reality. Same with the stretch marks that are written across my stomach like permanent souvenirs of my previous state of being. They're pretty hideous, but I know they'll fade a bit in time. And in a weird way, they're badges of honor, reminding me how far I've come. I turn forward again to evaluate whether my top is covered enough. Tightening the ties behind my neck, I reach in and lift myself into the cups. I feel Edward's presence before I see him in the mirror behind me. He's leaning against the wall, arms and ankles crossed in a pose meant to be casual, but his expression is anything but. My eyes find his in the reflection, but he's not looking at my face.

It feels odd to be examined this way after so many days apart, and honestly, I can't remember him ever regarding me this hungrily. It does something to me, and I realize I'm really glad I left my panties on inside the suit. His eyes take their time roaming my body, and despite the fact that there is holiday hustle and bustle all around us, the air seems still and we notice only each other. I feel riveted to my spot by his intent gaze.

Finally, when he's had his fill, he steps right up behind me and places his lips to my ear. In a low, gravelly voice thick with desire, he says, "I'll give you two seconds to get back in that room." Our eyes meet in the mirror before he turns and leads me to our stall. Without looking back, he knows I'm following, and he pushes aside the curtain to let me in first. It swishes closed behind him with a dramatic finality.

He stalks toward me, and I back up reflexively. There's something about the way he's acting that feels almost menacing, and damn is it hot! I feel the wall against my heel, and a small measure of satisfaction shows on his face. _Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide._ He brings both hands up just above my shoulders and traps me against the wall. His lips close over mine in a breathless kiss that sucks the oxygen from deep within me. The feel of his insistent tongue against mine is familiar but it's been so long….too long. His hands close in on my head, fingers dipping into my hair and thumbs gripping my cheeks. His chest crashes against mine, my flimsy top doing nothing to shield me from his muscular build.

Our panting becomes moaning, and I'm sure our exuberance carries past the cheap partitions separating us from the rest of the customers. Edward's hips press into me, and I feel his excitement. I press back with equal fervor.

"Oh God, Bella, I want you so much."

I answer by pulling his tongue further into my mouth.

I feel a tug at my neck and his hand at my chest, dragging away the halter, kneading my breasts, and pinching my nipples till they're rock hard for him. His deep grunts bring out my inner animal, and I run my hand down his chest and take hold of his erection, giving him a tight squeeze through his shorts.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he groans, taking the bottom of my ear between his teeth.

"Ah!" I cry, squeezing him harder. He pinches me again and, pinning me to the wall with his chest, he slides his other down into the front of my bathing suit, right inside my panties, and rubs me roughly.

"Mmmm!" I moan into the base of his neck, looking for a place to bury my noise. I am slick and needy as hell after four days and nights alone and our little unresolved cuddle session this morning. Judging by his responses, he is equally desperate. While he rubs and slides his knowing fingers, I manage the button and zipper of his shorts and dip my hand under his boxers and find his bare flesh.

"Ahhhhhh," he jumps, but immediately settles in against my hand. "Oh please, Baby, please! I need you!" he groans loudly.

"Shhh," I implore him, not expecting him to take heed.

His fingers are circling and rubbing and I'm bouncing shamelessly against his forearm, palming him equally roughly in my lusty haze.

"I'm close," I warn, digging into his back with my fingernails and gathering a wad of his tee shirt in my hand.

"Me too, Baby. Don't stop. Feels so good. Oh God! Don't stop!"

We pleasure each other in perfect synchronicity, both of us taking exactly what we're giving. I lose it first, squealing into his shoulder, crashing my teeth down into his clavicle. He tightens and explodes along my arm.

Without saying a word, Edward places a sweet kiss on my lips and pulls his shirt off to mop me up.

I have to giggle when I notice he's spurted all over my stomach and chest, including the wayward bikini top dangling down my front. Edward cracks up and says, "Oops. Maybe you can get a discount on the damaged merchandise."

A loud voice behind the curtain startles us. "Is anything working for you in there?" This starts me giggling anew, and I cover Edward's mouth with my hand and my eyes forbid him from calling out the snarky response I know he's thinking.

"Yeah, I found something I really like," I finally snort out. "Actually, could I have a men's tee-shirt, something basic, in a medium?"

Edward gives me a glare and flexes his pecs in my face. "Sorry, make that a large," I amend with a giggle.

**^EPOV^**

"Here goes nothing," I stall, just before hitting the Login button.

"Come on, already!" she nudges me with her elbow.

"All right, all right," I answer, pressing the mouse and watching my fate appear on the screen.

Bella reads, "Comp Sem…A. History of Jazz…A. Pre-Calculus…B+! B+, Edward! That's awesome! Introduction to Psychology…A-! WOW! Look what you did!"

Relief floods my system, leaving me numb and tingly. I stare at the letters on the screen, unbelieving. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined those grades. Bella throws her arms around my neck and kisses me on the cheek because I can't turn my head away from the screen. I scoot over on the floor, leaving her the spot under the coffee table where my laptop is perched. "Okay, your turn."

She navigates out of my screen and checks her own. "Comp Sem, blah, blah, Calculus…A, Contemporary American Literature…A, English Poetry…A. Thank goodness, no surprises."

Watching Bella gather her grades, I realize what a different place we come from. For her, A's are the expectation. I flash back to that moment in her kitchen at Thanksgiving time, when she was hastily clearing off the refrigerator door. I'm guessing there was more than one 'A' paper posted among the pictures. Then I remember Bella telling me about her recent conversation with her Dad about how anything less than an 'A' was met with grave disapproval from her mother.

I reach my hand to her chin and tip her face my direction, pulling her in for a kiss. "Great job, Bella. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks," she says sweetly, ready to move on.

"I think we both deserve a non-caloric reward for our good grades," I say, pulling her closer.

"Where is everyone?" she asks suspiciously.

"Dad's at work, Mom's at the store, Emmett and Rose are at his scrimmage…just leaves you, me, and a whole houseful of horizontal surfaces."

"Oh, gee, that's romantic," she teases. "You know, Edward, I think it's high time I got to see the inside of your bedroom."

"What are we waiting for?" I ask, popping to my feet and offering her my hand.

O)(O

"Holy smokes, look at all those trophies! If you ever run out of money, you can always melt them down and -"

"Drink 'em?" I pull her anxiously over to my bed, the object of our first weird conversation, the first twinge of jealousy about my past.

She smiles and sits down on the edge, feet on the floor. "So, this is where the magic happens?"

"Well, I'm certainly hoping…." I answer, leaning over her and flattening my palms on either side of her.

"Is that your _move_, Edward?"

"I don't have a move," I answer, amused.

"Feels like a move," she says.

I lean in and kiss her. "Just feels like a kiss to me." I bring my knees up on either side of her lap and send her backwards into the mattress. And I kiss her some more.

"Hey, wait a second," she says. "Isn't this where your…" Bella twists her neck around to the corkboard wall.

"Where are all the girls?" she asks, confused.

My eyes give me away. The involuntary flick of my attention to the spot of wall right next to my pillow. Bella shimmies herself up the bed to investigate. And I'm so busted.

"Edward," she says softly.

I shrug.

"Come up here and look at me like that again."

I crawl up to my pillow and watch her, "How else could I ever look at you, Bella?"

She pulls the strip of three pictures out from under the edges of the two thumbtacks holding it in place. I didn't have the heart to poke a hole in any part of this memory. She reverently holds the pictures up in the air and looks from me to the photos and back again. "Say it, Edward."

"Bella, I love you."

A wide satisfied smile crosses her face and she carefully replaces the strip on the wall.

"What happened to the rest of them?"

"I don't need them anymore. I have a real girl."

**~BPOV~**

I'm just wrapping myself in a towel when I hear a knock at the bedroom door.

"Rose, can you get that?" I call out to the room. No answer.

"One sec," I shout, scurrying to open the door a crack. When I see that it's Edward, I hop behind the door and open it for him.

"Mmm," he says, temporarily distracted. "I just came to remind you to dress for golf this morning."

"I thought I'd wear this," I indicate the towel. "Plus my glove, of course."

His mouth drops open, but he recovers quickly, rubbing his hand over his chin. "Can't wait to see your first swing," he smiles. "Coming down for breakfast?"

O)(O

"Come on, Babe," Emmett says, pulling Rosalie out the door. "We'll see you all at dinner."

"Have a great day!" Rose calls hastily.

"Mom, you sure you don't mind if Bella and I go to the Club?"

"Of course not. You kids go and have fun. We'll meet you at The Cliff House at seven."

"Thanks, Mom," Edward says, crossing the room to give her a peck on the cheek.

"Got everything for later?" he checks, and I nod. "All right, we're out of here."

O)(O

My nerves are acting up in the car on the way over to the Club. _Edward's club_. The place where he and his father won all those trophies and everyone loves him. Let's face it, I am about to make a complete fool of myself. It's one thing to take some swings at a practice range, quite another to actually try to play the game.

But at least, I look the part, having brought my special golf outfit home with me on a whim. I realize I've never seen Edward golf in anything other than his Holden shirt and green hat. Today, he's wearing his usual khakis with a black short-sleeved collared shirt that is some kind of technical material in a trim athletic cut. He's gotten some sun since he's been home, and he looks particularly hot today.

Edward parks the car and grabs a couple things from the trunk- a matching black Nike hat and some balls. He couldn't be more relaxed and happy. "Ready?" he asks, and I smile as bravely as I can.

He grabs my hand and leads me into the pro shop, where introductions are made. "Bella, I'd like you to meet James Everett Sullivan, aka 'Sully'. Taught me everything I know about the game."

"Hah! Sure! Blame _me_ for that crazy slice!" Sully answers, extending a friendly hand to me. "Very nice to meet you, Bella. Anything you need to know about Edward, you just give me a ring. I've known this kid since he was knee-high to a grasshopper."

Bella dives right in and says, "You must have some good dirt on him."

"The best," Sully says. "Has he told you he's trying to steal my job?"

Edward cuts in and saves me, "Now what makes you think I'd ever want to work in a dump like this?"

"That's a rich one, Cullen," he laughs.

"Do you think you could make yourself useful while we're eating and pull together a couple irons and a driver for my girl?"

"I think that can be arranged. Want a bag?"

"No, just throw them in mine. Thanks, Sully."

"I'm here for you, Edward. Whatever you need."

Edward snorts and heads toward the Grill Room. Heads turn, people wave and stop by our table. Everyone wants to meet "Edward's girl". We finally get our food and a moment of peace.

"Is this too much for you?" he asks, suddenly concerned.

"Of course not. I love that everyone loves you."

He shrugs modestly and ignores the attention. "This is my favorite part," he says, when the bill is placed in front of him. "It's like magic. You just write down three little numbers and you're good to go. Ready to warm up a little?"

"Sure." Warming up is cool. It's the part that comes after that freaks me out.

O)(O

We're met at the range by a different crowd of admirers, all of whom jockey for his attention.

"Sorry, guys, I'm off duty today. I'm only watching one swing today, and that's my girlfriend Bella's."

"Ahh, a _private_ lesson. Got it, Champ!"

"Right, Mr. Bobbit," Edward winks.

They all yell friendly greetings to me and Edward pulls me along to the first spot at the range. He pulls out the ladies' clubs and sets them in the rack behind me. "Here, take your 7-iron and stretch out."

I mimic his movements and try to ignore the ten sets of eyes behind us, watching our every move.

Edward starts up with his pitching wedge, so I take mine. I watch him a few times and practice my swing, but miss the ground every time. "Edward, I-"

Before I can turn around, he's behind me, calmly reminding me to relax, hold still, watch the ball, sweep along the ground. I sink into his arms when he envelops me, and together we hit the perfect ball. After a while, I finally start to loosen up and enjoy myself, and he takes me over to the practice putting area.

"Here," he says, dropping three bright, shiny white balls down on the green. "Brand new balls, just for you."

I read the word on the side. "Noodle? That doesn't sound very cool."

He laughs, "This is the perfect ball for you. Now show me that great putting stroke that gets me so hot for you."

O)(O

"Here's the great thing about golf. No matter which two people are playing the game, there's a way to make a fair bet."

"You think I'd be stupid enough to bet against you in golf? I don't think so, Edward!"

He laughs, "Don't worry, I'll make it an even game. First of all, you're going to hit your tee shot from wherever _my_ tee shot lands, _and_ I'll give you an additional stroke per hole."

"Hmm," I say, considering his offer, "what are the stakes?"

He knows he's won this battle and he gets an adorable gleam in his eye. "Winner gets a massage from the loser."

Mmm, a massage. Getting a massage from Edward would be blissful. And giving a massage to Edward would be almost as divine. I can't lose either way, and I'm guessing he feels the same. "Deal."

He holds out his hand and we shake on it.

Edward sets up his ball at the first tee, takes a practice swing, and hits a beautiful shot that sails out into the middle of the fairway. He picks up his bag, slings it over his shoulder and holds out his hand for mine.

_Oh_, so _this_ is golf. Walking hand in hand with the man I'm head over heels in love with, just the two of us virtually alone in this paradise. It's quiet and peaceful, the only noise we hear being the faint rattle of the club heads. I can definitely see the charm in this game. Of course, I have yet to hit a ball.

He shows me how to set my tee and ball together near where his ball landed in the fairway. "Just to be clear, you would _never_ use a tee in the fairway like this."

"Got it," I nod, lining up my shot the way he taught me at the practice range at school. I take my first swing with the driver and swipe right under the ball, popping it up in the air and landing it about five feet in front of me.

"Take a Mulligan, and this time don't sway."

"Mulligan?"

"It's a do-over off the first tee. It's actually cheating but most golfers do it anyway."

I set up and he lines up his body behind mine, hands on my waist. "Hey, that's not fair. You're distracting me."

"I'm trying to help you. Pretend I'm a wall."

I wiggle my rear against the front of his pants and sure enough, he is a wall. I hit a very nice shot straight and far (for me). We march to my ball and he hands me my pitching wedge. Setting down his bag, he takes out his own wedge. "Here, just like this." Edward sets up to an imaginary ball in front of me and takes two swings, smooth, relaxed, and graceful. I copy his swing and hit a beautiful shot that lands on the green.

"You're dancing!" he says, excitedly.

"What?" I giggle.

"You're on the green. It's the dance floor."

**^EPOV^**

I sneak my putt in for birdie on the tenth hole, going up three. As we make our way to eleven, I pull Bella in front of me and place my hands on her shoulders, kneading her muscles and pressing my thumbs up the column of her neck.

"Mmmm, what's that for?" she hums appreciatively.

"I'm just showing you how I like my massage."

"I don't think so, Cullen."

O)(O

I keep it interesting for Bella, and she's still giving the game her all as we play the fifteenth hole. My tee shot bounces into the rough. A tough shot for me to the green but a tougher shot for a beginner to dig out of the deep grass and get any forward action. She hits her 7-iron and the ball shoots straight off the toe into the right woods.

"Oh, my Noodle!" she laments. I set down my bag and we trudge into the forest.

After a while, I locate her ball sitting on top of a tree root under a bush. "Found it!"

Bella comes over to where I'm standing, and I point out her unfortunate lie. "Now what?" she asks.

"Now, it would be very wise for you to concede the hole."

"But you'd be up three with three to go. I'd be dormie," she adds miserably.

"True. You could take a drop but it'll cost you a stroke and you only get two club lengths so you'd have to drop in the woods again."

She pouts adorably as I explain all the bad news scenarios.

"Isn't there anything I can do to have a chance to win the hole?"

"Hmm," I ponder, knowing there isn't anything in the Rules of Golf that will get her out of this mess. But there may be a little something in the Rules of Edward. "You can come over here and give me two handfuls of those, and I'll let you drop on the green with no penalty."

"You are such a perv," she smiles.

"Deal or no deal?"

With a quick backward glance just to be sure there's nobody around, she walks over to me and lifts her shirt. I give her a good penalty stroking, then release her. "Okay. Go take your drop." So worth it.

We tie fifteen, and when I beat her on sixteen, I go up three with only two holes left. "That's it. Game over."

She's watched enough of my matches to know it's time to shake my hand and congratulate me. She does the sportsmanlike thing, but then she adds, "So, is that it?"

"Well, we could go double or nothing on the last two holes. You'd have to win one and at least tie the other to win the double."

"What's double?" she ponders. "Two massages?"

"Nah, I don't need two massages. Tell you what, if I win the double, you do the massage naked. If you win, you're off the hook. My win is expunged."

O)(O

It all comes down to the final putt on eighteen. If I make it, Bella gets naked. It's a long putt, across a hilly terrain, but I know these greens like the back of my hand. The second I make contact, I know it's going in.

"Oh. My. God," she says. "I cannot believe you just made that."

"This is by far the best golf bet I've ever won," I gloat a little bit.

"How did you do that just now?" she asks, still stunned.

"Practice, Bella. And inspiration."

**~BPOV~**

It's a relief to have a hot shower in the locker room. I've walked the length of a golf course before, but it's certainly a lot dirtier when you're actually playing, especially if you happen to visit a few sand traps and wooded areas along the way. With freshly blown hair, fresh lip gloss, and a sleeveless cotton sundress, I feel like a new woman when I exit.

"Hommena, hommena."

I look up, startled to see Edward waiting for me on the stairs just outside the door. He pulls himself up by the railing and checks me out from head to toe, a wide smile resulting from his visual tour. "You clean up nice."

"You're not so bad yourself." Understatement of the century, though he looked pretty delicious in his golf clothes as well. There's just something about freshly showered Edward that makes me want to burrow my face into his neck and inhale his yummy, manly, clean scent. He holds his hand out for my gym bag, and I hand it to him automatically.

"What's this restaurant like?" I ask him, once we get onto the freeway. It's fascinating watching Edward handle the manual shift, but I'm sure no stranger than it was for him to watch me maneuver my truck.

"It's beautiful. Very scenic, extremely romantic. My parents love to go there for special occasions."

"Sounds really nice," I say absently, trying to clean up my thoughts before we have to sit chastely for two hours.

"It is, but I'd be just as happy with a ham and cheese at a picnic table, as long as I got to be with you."

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Of course. In fact," he pauses, "I'd like that even better. Because I don't know how I'm going to sit through a long dinner with my family when all I can think about is that naked massage I'm getting later."

"Later _tonight_?" I was picturing a private moment back at school, when I might have a chance to study some video beforehand. He wants this now? At his house? On his king bed?

"Bella, golf bets have to be paid promptly upon completion of the round," he says matter-of-factly, as if quoting from that very same book of rules that governed my ball in the woods earlier.

O)(O

"Do you know what you're going to order?" Rose asks, poking her head into my menu.

_Massaging Edward without my clothes on_.

"Uh…no…maybe the um…swordfish?"

_Massaging Edward without _his _clothes on_.

"Wanna split the beet salad with me?"

_Edward flipping over onto his back_.

"Sure. Fine."

_Me. Naked. Sitting on naked Edward's front._

"Oysters, dear?" Esme offers.

"No thank you," I decline.

"They're an aphrodisiac, you know," Emmett pipes up.

As if I need some slimy sea creature to add to my desire. "I'm good," I answer nervously, afraid my fantasies are readily apparent to anyone who glances my direction.

Edward's fingers curl around mine and move our joined hands to his knee. Conversation swirls around us.

Edward's thumb rubs across my knuckles. Courses are served, eaten and cleared.

Edward's lips dip to my bare shoulder and leave a soft kiss. Desserts are tasted and passed.

Edward's eyes tell me he's thinking what I'm thinking. The check is signed.

Edward stands abruptly and pulls my chair out for me. "Mom and Dad, thanks so much for a great dinner. We'll meet you at home?"

He doesn't wait for confirmation, so I add my own gratitude quickly. His hand is at the small of my back, pushing me forward, out the door, into the car. "We have to make a pit stop," he informs me.

"Need gas?" I ask, disappointed that we'll be slowed by such a practical errand.

"No. Massage oil."

_Oh._

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, with a growing trepidation.

"Good Vibrations," he smirks over at me.

O)(O

I'm curled into his side, trying very hard to disappear entirely. "I think we're seriously overdressed for this place," I whisper into his shoulder.

He chuckles and answers, "If you are wearing clothing at all, you're overdressed for this place."

"Can I help you find anything?" says a scary-looking character at the end of the aisle, eyeing me as if I'm wearing a huge billboard that screams, "PRUDE!"

"No, we're good-" I start.

"That would be great," Edward talks over me, enlisting help, much to my embarrassment. "Where do you keep the oils?"

The guy points toward the back of the store and says, as matter-of-factly as if he were telling us where to find the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese at the grocery store, "Aisle 14, just past the dildos. I'll show you."

We follow our leather-clad sales associate, and I keep my eyes forward and my body locked to Edward's, who seems entirely amused by the expedition. "Have you been in here before?" I ask him through the right half of my mouth.

He laughs, "Do you really wanna know?"

"Never mind."

Edward chuckles and kisses the top of my head. "My innocent, sweet Bella. You _will_ live through this. I promise."

"Okay, over here, you have your standard body oils. If you're giving a full-blown massage, I'd recommend something in this area. If you're going to need something edible…?" He poses the question and looks at us.

"Maybe," Edward shrugs nonchalantly, and I feel the warm sheen of a blush cover my skin.

The guy nods, completely nonplussed. "Definitely go with this section then. Trust me, you do not want any of that shit in your mouth."

Oddly, I do trust him. "Thanks very much," Edward says, dismissing our helper.

"Sure thing, man. Just pick a flavor that you like, and you're good to go."

**^EPOV^**

"I'm ready," I call to Bella. In fact, I wish I weren't so damn ready, because lying on my hard-on is not exactly a pleasant experience.

"You dimmed the lights?" she asks.

"Lights are dimmed."

"You have the sheet on?" she confirms.

"Yes, Bella. I have the sheet on. Come on out."

The bathroom door opens and there's Bella, wearing only a chocolate brown towel, which matches the one I'm lying on top of on my bed. Her hair is long and free, framing her extremely serious face. She's clutching the knot in her towel so tightly, I can see her yellow knuckles from across the room. I almost offer to let her off the hook, but I know once she relaxes, she'll enjoy this, too. Plus, she did lose the bet, and I know that she's the kind of person who wouldn't respect herself if she didn't pay up. And also, I really, _really_ want this.

"You have the oil?" she asks, stalling.

"Right here."

She steps closer, avoiding my eyes. One knee lifts onto the bed, followed by the other.

"I don't really know what I'm doing, y'know."

"I'm not expecting a Shiatsu massage."

"I hope you're not gonna be disappointed."

"Bella," I insist on her eyes meeting mine before I continue, "I'm pretty easy where you're concerned. You touch me, I'm happy. Okay? Please just relax."

She nods, and her mouth forms into a brave smile. I relax my neck and close my eyes. There's a dip in the bed next to my right hip. The sheet pulls taut across my lower back as she sets her other knee down outside my left hip. I hear the soft rustle of the heavy towel as it lands in a heap on the floor. I can't help the smile that plays along my lips, even though I'm not looking. Bella's naked on top of me. Life is good.

I hear the squirt of the pump top and seconds later, Bella's warm, oily hands play all along my back. She goes back to the oil several times, fully coating me in slippery warmth. She works my lower back first, kneading with thumbs and fingers, and for someone who doesn't have a clue what she's doing, she is doing a fantastic job.

She sits down on top of me after a while, and I can feel her warmth through the thin sheet that separates us. Her hands work higher and higher on my back, until she finally has to scoot her knees up to my waist so she can reach my shoulders and neck.

She adds in some fresh oil and works her thumbs and fingers around the column of my neck like a seasoned expert. "Mmmmm, Bella, that feels _so_ good," I praise her. I feel the goose bumps break out as she hits the base of my skull. Sensing my enjoyment, she redoubles her efforts and plays along those tight muscles at the bottom of my neck. I am in heaven. Just when I think things can't get much better, she sits her bare bottom down in the middle of my back.

I feel _everything_.

My brain goes on overload as I attempt to process all the pleasure points at once. Finally, I just let myself feel, and I express my pleasure freely. She works up each arm and down my sides, hitting every spot that ever thought about feeling tense. I'm relaxed and happy and needy and so incredibly hard. But her debt is paid, and she was a great sport.

I stretch my hand to brush along her knee. "Thank you, Bella. That was fantastic."

She rises onto her knees and says, "Okay, you can turn over now."

"Really?" says the eight-year-old who's just been told he's going to Disneyland.

"Unless you're bored," she teases. "Mind if I do away with the sheet for this part?"

I flip over onto my back so quickly I almost knock her over. For the first time, she shares with me what I've only been imagining; the vision of her soft curves and delicate angles perched atop my bare body. The two of us sharing this space without any barriers, without any need for modesty. In her eyes, I find a trust and generosity that stops me dead in my tracks.

"Thank you," I tell her, and she fully knows why.

"The pleasure is all mine…_for now_," she says slyly. "Now would you please fold your hands behind your head so I can see all those muscles better?"

I will do anything you want, my naked, sweet, awesome girlfriend.

O)(O

Every muscle has been worked. All but one. Well, technically, it's not a muscle.

Bella leans forward, pressing her bare chest to mine, slipping along in the oily mess she's made of me. I eagerly accept her firm kiss, and the anticipation builds in me as she pumps another squirt of massage oil into her hand. Situating herself back atop my thighs, she shoots me a devilish wink and cups her hand around my waiting cock, replacing suspense with unbridled joy. This massage is going to have a happy ending!

She slides her hand up and down, pumping me firmly and greasing me up. This slippery handjob is so much more comfortable than the dressing room jerk, and I was already a puddle of pudding before she even started on this particular body part. My eyes roll back in my head, and I thank my lucky stars for this girl on top of me.

"Feel good, Baby?" she asks ridiculously, and my eyes focus back to hers. That's not actually true, my eyes focus on the canvas of her bouncing breasts, shiny with residual oil from our full frontal contact. Her hands feel heavenly around my shaft, but I fixate on those slippery breasts, and I know this is an opportunity I simply cannot pass up.

"Amazing," I tell her, reaching my hands toward her. "But do you think I could get you in the act, too?"

"Whose hands do you think these are?"

I open my hands and place my palms up, gesturing with my fingers. "C'mere."

She gives me a quizzical look but leans forward.

"More."

She stops what she's doing with her hands and drops them down onto the bed at either side of my chest. Finally I reach her breasts and pull them toward me, rubbing across her nipples and showing them some affection.

"Can you hold those right there?" I plead, and she takes hold of herself warily.

I reach for my abandoned cock and stand it up right in between her two fleshy handfuls. She watches carefully as I push up in the center. "Unnngggh," I moan, sliding along the soft skin, feeling completely engulfed in softness and warmth. I take back her boobs now that I'm properly aligned, offering her some of the pleasure she's been lavishing on me.

A smile grows where curiosity and caution resided earlier, and she starts to rock with me and enjoy her part in this. She's been working my body over for the better part of an hour, and that is an awful lot of foreplay for me, not even factoring in the nudity and oil. Needless to say, after about eight or nine good strokes, I'm ready to burst. "Don't! Look! Down!" I manage to grunt out, just before I spurt like a fountain, right up toward her face.

She dissolves into a fit of giggles and we roll around like two happy hippos in our disgusting, greasy mess.

"Thank you, Bella. That was really a fantastic massage."

"Not bad for my first time, eh?"

"Mmm, first? Does that mean there will be repeat performances?"

"I could see doing that again some time," says my too-good-to-be-true girlfriend.

"That sounds promising, but right now, it's _your_ turn."

"My turn? You won. I don't get a turn."

"I won the _first_ massage. Now let's go, face down."

"Edward, you really don't have to do this," she protests.

"Bella, honestly, which part of rubbing warm oil all over my girlfriend's naked body do you think I won't enjoy?"

**~BPOV~**

"Edward, do you think you could possibly get your brother off the merry-go-round now? If he makes us go around one more time, I'm gonna puke my guts out."

"I would strongly advise you not to test that hypothesis," Rose advises morbidly.

"I'll handle it," Edward says. "Why don't you girls hop off? You do look a little green, Bella," he continues, his voice laced with concern.

"Come on, Em," we hear him call to his brother, sitting proudly on the jumping horse waiting for the organ to crank out the next march. "If you're a good boy, we'll take you for a real horsy ride!"

Emmett's face lights up and he dismounts the horse and jumps off the carousel platform.

"Real horses?" Rose grabs my shirt sleeve and I can hear the panic in her voice. "Bella, I don't _do_ real horses!"

"Relax, Rose," I try to soothe her. The last time I saw her so lacking in confidence was at karaoke night, and this panic eclipses that fear tenfold. She literally looks scared for her life. "I'm sure you don't have to ride if you're uncomfortable."

"Are you kidding? Did you see Emmett's face? He's like a little boy at …well, at the airport on Christmas! How could I possibly disappoint that face?"

I shrug, imagining Rose's dilemma. I've grown up in a community with several horse farms and done my share of riding, so the prospect of doing this new activity with Edward thrills me, but I could see where it could be terrifying for someone who's never ridden before.

"You've gotta trust Emmett," is all I can come up with after a while.

We unlock our rented bicycles from the rack and Emmett charges ahead. "To the stables!" he yells, like a general leading his army into battle. Edward gives me a good-natured eye roll and waits for Rosalie and me to ride in front of him before following. After a ten-minute bike ride, we're at the Equestrian Center, and now it's Rose who's looking green.

Emmett rushes inside to make the arrangements and I give Rose a nudge forward to encourage her to go talk to him, leaving me alone with Edward, finally. He takes care of pulling the chain through each of our bikes and locking them together.

"So, did you guys ride horses a lot growing up?" I ask him, as he wipes his hands down the front of his shorts.

"A fair amount," he answers. "It's more Emmett's thing than mine. He spent a few summers at riding camp. I was always more into sports, I guess. What about you?"

"I've ridden a bunch. I've always loved trail riding; I don't get much of a thrill out of going round and round a corral."

"No? How about jumping?" he asks, with the grin of a person who knows the thrill of flying through the air on the back of a beautiful creature.

"Jumping is awesome," I agree, "but my favorite is breaking into a gallop through an open field, just letting the horse run and feeling his unrestrained power underneath me."

"Did you mean that to sound hot? Because that sounded really hot, Bella," he says, pulling me against his body suddenly. "Any time you need to feel a powerful unrestrained beast underneath you, you just say the word, baby, and I…am…_there_."

I feel that he is, indeed, there. I reach my lips up to his, kiss him, and warn, "You better get rid of that beast before you mount up, or you might seriously hurt yourself."

"Hunh, now I remember why I find riding a challenge. I guess Emmett's doesn't get in the way?" From the way he suggests it, I can tell this has been a longstanding joke between them.

As if on cue, Rose and Emmett emerge from the office with a rugged-looking man who's either in his sixties or is just prematurely leathery from all his time outdoors. Rose looks slightly more comfortable than before, and Emmett's got her securely locked to his side.

"Afternoon," greets the cowboy. "Name's Job; I'll be your guide this afternoon. I told these two that I would take good care of the lady, but she insists on riding with Emmett here, so they'll be going bareback."

Both Edward and I flick our eyes to Emmett, who's still smiling, but now there's a hint of a grimace underneath the excitement. He shrugs slightly, communicating it's the only way he could get Rosalie to agree.

"You two also riding together?" Job asks.

Mmm, riding bareback in front of Edward sounds like all kinds of fun for me, but not so much for him. And I certainly wouldn't want to do anything that might put Edward out of commission for the next couple of days. Not with New Year's Eve coming our way in three nights.

Edward's watching me, waiting for me to make the decision. He's trying to appear as if he doesn't care either way, but he's still holding me closely and I can still feel his hardness. No way.

"No, we'll each ride our own."

Edward blows out a huge breath of relief. "Thank you, awesome girlfriend," he mumbles into my ear, tickling me with the vibrations of his voice and the warm spray of air.

"In that case, Hutch, let's put the young lady on Butterscotch," he says to one of the ranch hands who's appeared soundlessly behind us, "and this gentleman can ride Shadow. You two will be riding Buster Brown. Now, don't you worry, Miss Rosalie, he's a sweet, gentle old fella. Never hurt a fly."

Minutes later, Job is back and helping Rose mount Buster Brown, Emmett waiting for her on the horse's back. Edward seems appropriately matched atop a beautiful black Morgan, who looks itching to take a good, hard gallop for him. And I'm comfortable on Butterscotch, a beautiful Palomino I'm told is related to Mr. Ed.

"How's it feel up there without a saddle, Em?" Edward prods.

"Feels like his name oughtta be '_Ball_ Buster Brown' instead," Emmett complains good-naturedly.

"Better your balls than mine," Edward pokes back. "You look great up there, Rose," he encourages. Rose smiles bravely and Emmett tightens his hold around her front and whispers what seem to be encouraging words into her ear. She relaxes back against his body for a minute, but that all goes away when Job asks if we're ready to roll.

**^EPOV^**

"You looked so hot cantering across the field at the end, Bella. Wasn't that a blast?"

"I was thinking the same about you," she answers.

"Really? Because I was thinking that you looked so beautiful and free, with your long flowing hair dancing behind you…and I was wishing I was underneath you every time your ass slammed back down in the saddle…and I was thinking how fucking sexy it was that you were controlling that wild animal with a few subtle movements of your hands and thighs."

"Hmm, I hadn't gotten much beyond the graceful way you and Shadow seemed to meld into one powerful being cutting across the tall grass."

"Can we _please_ go to the Observatory now?" Rose whines, limping over to her bike and looping her leg over the seat.

"Sounds like a plan," Emmett says, straddling his seat with great care and riding in a half-standing position the whole way there.

We chuckle at the two of them and I lead the way to the planetarium.

"So, what do you do at a public star party?" Bella asks Rose, who seems to know her way around the event.

"Basically, you listen to what they tell you you're going to see when you get your turn to look through the telescope."

"The line's pretty long. Mind if we take in one of the movies while you wait your turn?" I ask her.

"Sure. Just come back up and meet us when you're done."

"Come on, Bella. This movie _Centered in the Universe_ is really cool. They tell you all about the Big Bang Theory."

She grins and tells me, "You are such a boy sometimes."

I pull her close and say, "Bella, it's a pitch black, air-conditioned room with really comfortable seats, and I'm kind of desperate to kiss you. Are you going to make me beg?"

"Well, I do love it when you beg," she says, giving me a soft peck on the lips.

O)(O

Back home, we're four tired couch potatoes. More like mashed potatoes, actually. And speaking of vegetables, Emmett's got a bag of frozen peas resting on his jewels.

"So, tomorrow, the way I see it," I say, "we have two choices: Universal Studios or a hike in the park."

"Hiking's always fun," Rose suggests.

"Just so you know, I've heard coyotes and rattlesnakes have been spotted lately in the hills, so that's a little concerning." I share.

"Sounds like Universal it is," Emmett concludes from his spot across the room. "I've already got a set of crushed nuts. I don't think I need a rattlesnake bite to boot."

"I'm really not that much fun on roller coaster rides," Bella admits warily.

"Or airplanes…or merry-go-rounds…" Rose adds.

"Thanks a lot, Rose," she gripes. "Just warning you."

"So, we'll sit those out."

"I don't want to spoil your time."

"You think I care about some stupid ride more than you?"

O)(O

True to my word, I sit out Jurassic Park: The Ride, Shrek 4-D, and Revenge of the Mummy, and I couldn't really care less, because Bella and I just hang out together and eat junk food and enjoy the sun. But when Emmett comes out of the Simpsons virtual roller coaster laughing his ass off, he says, "Dude, you cannot miss that!"

"I'll keep Bella company for a while, Edward. Go enjoy the ride with Emmett."

"You don't mind, Bella?"

"Of course not. Go! Have fun. Say hi to Homer for me."

I lick the cotton candy off her lower lip as I kiss her. "Mmm, sweet as ever. Thanks."

**~BPOV~**

"Are you having an okay time?" Rose asks.

"Sure. You?"

She giggles. "I swear, Emmett is a little boy inside a man's body. It's like one of those movies where two people switch bodies!"

"So are you telling me that somewhere out there, there's an eight-year-old boy who has the personality of 21-year-old college football star headed for med school?"

"Scary! You looking forward to Alice and Jasper coming tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I'm so relieved they decided to tell the boys. I hate keeping secrets from Edward. It's so hard!"

"I know what you mean. So New Year's Eve should be a blast, huh?"

"Mmm hmm. Can you believe Carlisle and Esme are leaving all of us alone in the house?"

"Sure. They trust their sons, and they'd rather have all of us safely contained under their roof. Plus, I'm sure they don't mind spending the gift certificate Emmett and I gave them to the Four Seasons and having a romantic night out."

"That was really generous of you guys, and what great timing!" I marvel. "So, Rose…"

"Yeah?" she shifts toward me on the bench, sensing I've switched to a more serious topic.

"I've been thinking. A lot…"

"About…?"

"About…our first…time."

"Okay…?"

"I want it to be New Year's Eve."

Her face brightens, "Oh Bella, that's a perfect idea."

"I'm really, really nervous," I confess.

"Tell me what you're nervous about, exactly."

"Everything! Not being good enough for Edward, embarrassing myself. Pain," I finally admit.

Rose smiles sweetly. "Know the one thing you didn't mention?"

"What?"

"That you're not sure if he's the right guy to be your first."

"Edward's the easy part!"

"Well, lucky you," she says, almost scoldingly, folding her arms across her chest. "That's only the most important part!'

I almost feel as if I should apologize, but I'm really not sure why. "Rose?"

"Let me ask you something, Bella. If something happened the following day, and you guys broke up, would you ever look back with regret that he was your first?"

"It's pretty hard to picture that scenario, but no. I know how I feel right now, and I could never regret Edward."

"Most girls aren't nearly so lucky. My first time was fumbling around in the back seat of Schuyler Norwood's parents' Audi, with him making all kinds of promises he had no intention of keeping. And me being stupid enough to believe them all."

"Aw, Rose. I'm sorry."

"I'm just saying, you're really, really lucky that for whatever reason, you've saved yourself for Edward."

There's only one thing that's been bothering me, and I float it by Rose. "I just wish it was his first time, too."

She guffaws loudly at that and right away answers, "The hell you do!"

My eyes widen at her response, and she explains, "That's a lovely romantic notion; two young lovers coming together for both of their first times, candles glowing, rose petals strewn across the surface of the bed, soft motivational music playing in the background. Tender strokes, intimate gazes, deep kisses, all followed by the most exquisite joining of two bodies, yada, yada, yada. Of course, top that off with simultaneous orgasms."

"So what's wrong with that picture?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with the adage 'practice makes perfect'? A guy is lucky if he can hold on for twenty seconds his first time, let alone long enough to get you primed and ready. Not to mention, Bella, and I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this and burst your little bubble, it hurts like a motherfucker for most girls the first time. And if you're not expecting it, that can be a really harsh moment. You're really lucky that Edward's been through this before, and not to bring up a bad topic, but that girl who blogged about him had an awful lot of complimentary things to say about his technique."

Okay, not exactly what I was expecting, but I shouldn't count on Rose to sugar-coat anything. Ever. I tip my head back toward the sun and digest her latest serving of advice.

"Shit, Bella, I'm sorry. I asked Santa for tact this Christmas, but clearly he didn't deliver," she apologizes morosely.

"It's fine, Rose," I tell her, looking at her once again. "So, beyond just knowing all that, is there anything I can do to prepare myself?"

"Remember what you told me yesterday, before the trail ride?" she smiles.

"Yeah. Trust Emmett."

"Turns out that was pretty good advice, roomie! Your boy knows what he's doing, am I right?"

I blush madly, having already shared some of our highlights with her. She knows I don't have any complaints where Edward is concerned.

"Okay, then. It's New Year's Eve, you're gonna be with good friends, in a safe place. Your only jobs are to relax and trust. And I'd recommend just the right dosage of champagne: somewhere closer in the range to 'happily loose' than 'not gonna remember'. It would be a real shame if you passed out in the middle of it, might give your boy a complex."

I start to laugh in earnest, remembering how I actually did fall asleep on our first date, though Edward's always been too kind to make me admit it. Just then, the boys come out of the ride's exit, huge goofy smiles plastered across their faces.

"How was Krustyland?" I ask.

It seems that my smile is as broad as Edward's, because he responds, "Not half as good as whatever was going on out here, apparently."

**^EPOV^**

"Jazz, man, great to see you," I greet him at the bottom of the escalator. No, not running up the escalator to greet the roommate. But surprisingly, now that he's here, I find I've really missed him this week.

"You too, 'Duardo," he says, clutching me in a brief but enthusiastic hug. "Emmett," he says, offering his hand.

"What? No love for me? Get in here, fella," Emmett teases, holding out his arms for a hug. Jasper grins and allows Emmett his bear hug, which he tops off with a kiss on the top of Jasper's head.

"Where are the girls?" Jasper says, finally struggling out of Emmett's embrace.

"They're coming later for Alice. We're going straight to the Club."

"Great. Here come my clubs."

O)(O

"Emmett, it's an 8-inch putt," Jasper advises. "It's a love tap."

Emmett lines up to the ball and knocks it six feet past the hole. Jasper cannot believe his eyes. He turns to me and mumbles in a half-frustrated voice, "Gorilla golf."

Of course, he's got Emmett pegged for the gorilla in the old golf joke.*

"Try using metaphors," I coach Jasper, with a gleam in my eye. There's a reason I picked Dad as my partner today. Emmett is the one person I've found completely unteachable, and I don't really understand why. He's a gifted, well-coordinated athlete, but for some reason I can't seem to find the key to unlock his game.

"You're playing great today, Dad," I praise him.

"I always play well when I watch you swing the club. And now I've got Jasper, too. You guys are just a pleasure to watch."

"Don't forget Emmett," I joke.

"How could I?"

O)(O

"All right, now, Emmett, it's a half pendulum here, knees to knees. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, step aside, Rickie Fowler." Emmett gripes, dropping his shot right onto the green.

"Holy shit! You did it, Jas!" I exclaim.

"You did it, _Jas_? What the f-?" Emmett starts, clearly annoyed. "_Sorry, Dad_. I believe _I'm_ the one who hit the shot, little bro."

"Great shot, Em. Of course, it was you," I say, mollifying him. Sidling up to Jasper, I ask, "How'd you do that? I've tried for years to get him to think of a half swing."

"Emmett seems more of a mechanics kind of guy. He seems to do well with concrete direction. I'd save the 'feel' stuff for Dear Old Dad."

"Hunh…you sure you don't want to be a teaching pro?"

"Nah, I don't think I really have the personality for it. Besides, I'm gonna make a wad of money in a few short years and retire to _play_ golf, not teach it!"

"Okay, whatever you say, Jas."

**~BPOV~**

"Esme, are you okay?" I notice she hasn't said anything since we were seated at Ago for lunch.

"Sure, I'm fine. I just can't keep up with you girls. It's probably been twenty years since I've shopped on Melrose Avenue, and now I remember why I stopped coming!"

It's true that since Alice arrived just two hours earlier, the energy level has quadrupled. I hadn't realized until now what a calming influence Jasper is on her, having rarely seen them apart.

"Sorry, I hope we're not too much," I apologize.

"No, no, you're fine. I think I'll just sit it out when you hit Retail Slut, okay? I think I've had my fill of the stores."

"Yes," I laugh. "You were a great sport in Wacko. It's almost time to go meet the men anyway, right?"

"We'll leave here in about half an hour. You go have fun."

O)(O

"TINKERBELL!" Jasper's cry is so loud the Manager of Zoo Relations actually leaves the safety of his booth to ask Jasper to tone it down before he incites a stampede. But the two of them are a force of nature unto themselves. Alice jumps into his arms, and Jasper spins her around four full revolutions before setting her down, and with their lips locked together at that.

"Missed you so much"… "Feels so great to hold you"… "Couldn't wait another moment"… "Love you!"

"Seriously, Sir, Miss, I'm going to have to ask you not to do that in front of the chimp exhibit!"

"Down, Jas," Edward translates with a loud chuckle, grasping his shoulder for effect.

"How was your match?" I ask Edward.

His face crumples into a bit of a grimace, "We had it locked up until Jasper fixed Emmett's game.

"Awww, poor baby," I console him with a sweet kiss. He cheers right up at that.

"Who wants to see the elephants?" Emmett asks.

Edward rolls his eyes, "He always makes us see the elephants first."

"Where do _you_ want to go?"

He grins and takes my hand. "We'll see you guys back here in two hours!" He takes off at a fast clip and I have to struggle to keep up. I may have slacked off just a bit on my exercise routine during vacation.

"Slow down, would ya?" I plead. "Nobody's following us, I promise."

"Sorry. I'm excited." Excited Edward is a happy sight.

"Lead on."

He puts his arm around me and we walk at a more relaxed pace, until finally I can see our destination. Edward draws me to the iron rails and steps behind me, placing his hands on the iron spikes on either side of me. We stare in wonder at the graceful giraffes.

"They're beautiful, Edward."

"Did you know that a baby giraffe is already six feet tall and weighs 150 pounds at birth?"

"Wow! Sounds like an excellent argument for birth control," I joke.

"Which reminds me," he says, not taking his eyes off the majestic creatures before us, "all my tests came back negative."

"That's great, Edward. I knew they would," I tell him. And I really did, but still, relief washes over me.

He turns to me and says, "I hope you know I wasn't saying that to pressure you, Bella. I'm fine waiting…as long as you need."

"I know, Edward. Thanks for saying it, though."

"I'm so happy you're here." He nuzzles his nose behind my ear and places soft kisses at my neck.

I press back against his body and close my eyes. It's been a long morning without him. He twists me toward him, and soon, we're lost in our own little bubble of lips and tongues and tender caresses.

"Told you he'd be here," Emmett's voice can be heard heading in our direction. "He always goes to the giraffes first."

Edward pulls back to laugh, resting his forehead against mine. "So much for having you to myself."

"Later," I whisper, as much a promise to myself as it is to him.

O)(O

Edward is beaming as he tallies our score. "That's 75 points! Way to go, Bella."

"Seriously? Squiffy is a word? Rosie, look that shit up."

Mom holds out her palm to Emmett and he sheepishly drags out his wallet.

"I told you not to play against Bella," Rosalie answers him. "Her vocabulary is crazy."

Alice pouts, "I thought 'Jazzy' was good for 23."

"Aww, it was, baby, it was," Jas soothes her.

"I think I've had enough. Carlisle, come tuck me in, dear."

"Good night, kids. We'll see you in the morning and go over the rules…"

"For the one hundred and first time," Emmett finishes.

"Jasper, Alice, I've fixed up the pull-out couch for you in the office."

"So they get to sleep together?" Emmett whines.

"I'm not their mother." She challenges, "Want to offer any choice words, Emmett?" with her hand out, palm up.

"Nah, I'm good," he grumbles.

Once Carlisle and Esme exit up the stairs, Edward says, "What's the big deal, Em? They don't care what happens after they go upstairs."

"It's the principle, Edward."

"Not for me," Edward says, drawing me closer. "It's got nothing to do with the principle. See you all tomorrow! Bella," he says to me with darkening eyes, "bedtime."

**^EPOV^**

"What have you got there?" I question Bella, as she pushes through my bedroom door and closes it behind her. Though why I'm focused on her hands when she's only wearing tiny boxers and a tight tank top is probably a better question.

"Before things get going tomorrow, I wanted to take a minute and think about my New Year's resolutions. I thought maybe we could share our top three."

Whatever had started stirring in my boxers stops dead in its tracks. A writing assignment? In bed? Is this what I have to look forward to, in a long-term relationship with an English major? I suppose it's a fair trade-off for winning at Team Scrabble for the rest of our lives.

"Okay. Sure."

She hands me three slips of paper and a pen. Hmmm, which three things about myself will I focus on in the coming year? What three insecurities can I share with Bella? I have to smile to myself, realizing there isn't anything I wouldn't share with her. She's already seen me at my most vulnerable emotionally, academically, and physically. It doesn't get much more honest than rinsing out someone's barf bucket for him.

"Take your time," she says. "It's not really too fair. I've already given this a lot of thought over the last week."

"Oh great, not too much pressure."

All right, _think_. Something about school. I scribble, _'Work harder,_' but then cross it out. That's not right. _'Remember that you are an A student and the number one player on the team, and don't settle for less.'_

Okay, that one's good. Next…teaching. '_Work on expanding teaching techniques to be able to reach different kinds of learners.' _That one's been bouncing around my brain since golf earlier today.

The last one is easy. _'Make sure Bella knows how much I love her every minute of every day.'_

I look up and I see that she's been done and waiting for me. "Okay, now what?"

"Now, we trade, one at a time. Save the best one for last," she says, smiling. "One, two, three," she says, reaching out one of her slips to me. I hand her the one about teaching. In return, she hands me a slip that says, _'Try to be less judgmental and snarky.'_

"You really think you're snarky?" I laugh.

"Sometimes," she admits. "This one's good," she says of mine. "Ready for the next one? One, two, three."

I trade her 'not settling for less' for one that says, _'Work hard at keeping great body.'_

"This is great, Edward. You've come such a long way from our first talk in the bag room at school."

"Because of you," I answer easily.

"Only partly. You did the hard work. I just saw the potential."

"Mmm, speaking of potential, I like this one a lot. Does this mean you're going to keep seeing Riley with me?"

"Of course! What would he do without us?"

"Okay, Bella, time for the last slip. Ready, one, two,-"

"Wait!" She looks really nervous suddenly, and now I am super curious what's on her little slip of paper. "Can we turn off the lights?"

I chuckle, "How are we gonna read these with the lights off?"

"Can't we just say them instead?" she pleads.

"Sure, baby. Wanna get under the covers with me?"

She slides under the sheet and comforter I'm holding up, and when I draw her body to mine, I can feel her shivering. I reach back to click off the light and pull her into my warmth, rubbing her back vigorously to try and warm her up. She finally relaxes into my body and the trembling calms.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," she says. "You go first?"

"Okay. Mine says, 'Make sure Bella knows how much I love her every minute of every day.'"

"Oh, that's so sweet. Why don't you start right now?"

"Well, first of all, it's not the New Year yet, and second, you're acting really weird all of a sudden and I think you're stalling. Why don't you tell me what you wrote first?"

"All right." Long pause. "I resolve not to be a virgin when I wake up on January first."

_Holy. Mother. Of Resolutions_! Bella wants her first time to be tomorrow night. "Um…so can I help with this?"

I feel her knuckles in my arm before I sense the movement. "OW-CH!" I complain with a chuckle.

"Yes, I was hoping you could hold the video camera while I do it with some random guy off the street."

"Damn, Bella, that is some kinky shit!"

"Geez, Edward, do you see why I asked you to turn off the lights?"

"I'm just trying to lighten the heavy moment here."

"Why?"

Oh. Wow. Okay. _Don't_, she asked.

"Sorry. You surprised me, that's all." I can handle the heavy moment as well as the next guy, maybe even better. Depending who the next guy is. "It would be my very great honor to assist you with that resolution."

"Much better," she grumbles.

"C'mere," I say, finding her mouth in the dark with mine. My tongue finds hers and apologizes the rest of the way. My body responds in its predictable way, not just to the kiss, but also to the anticipation of what tomorrow will bring.

I give her a little breather. "I love you, Bella."

"I know," she whispers back in the dark.

O)(O

Kisses, gentle strokes, and whispered promises.

Finally, I ask, "Is there anything you want to talk about now? So you're not nervous all day tomorrow?"

"No. I trust you, Edward."

_Fuck_. The Holy Grail. "You won't be sorry. I promise."

* * *

><p>*<em>A guy walks into a <em>_pro-shop with a gorilla. "Anyone interested in a wager? I've got $500 here that says my gorilla can hit the ball longer and straighter than anybody here at this club."_

_Everyone in the pro-shop starts laughing. The newest pro at the club speaks up, "I'll take you up on that wager."_

_When they reach the 515-yard par-5 first tee, the trainer leads the gorilla to the tee box and puts a driver in his hands. The gorilla smashes his drive right down the middle and out of sight. The ball finally stops on the green, six inches from the cup. The pro is astonished and hands over the money. As he walks off the green, he turns back to the trainer and asks, "By the way, how does he putt?"_

_The trainer responds, "Just like he drives: 500 yards, right down the middle, every time."_


	21. New Year's

**12/31/2011 NEW YEAR'S **

**~BPOV~**

**/-9:00 AM-/**

"Sorry to get you all up so early, but we want to get to the Annual Santa Monica Antiques Show before everything gets picked over."

"No worries, Dr. C," answers Alice.

"Let's hear the rules, boys," Carlisle says.

Emmett: "Only the alcohol set aside for tonight is to be consumed."

Edward: "No other friends are allowed over."

Emmett: "If anyone else shows up, we're to call you immediately."

Edward: "If the police come, you know nothing about this."

Jasper: "Everything has to be back in its place in the morning, and we all have to be packed and ready to go by 9:30 AM."

"All right, dear. They seem to know the rules. Shall we?" Carlisle says, lifting their overnight bag to his shoulder and holding out his hand to Esme.

"Happy New Year, kids. Please be safe." Esme says on her way out.

The second the door closes, Emmett grabs a pad of paper and pen from the side table. "Okay, let's make a list of supplies…"

**/-11:00 AM-/**

"You sure you don't want this?"

"No, Edward, we're not making zucchini tonight."

"Oh," he says disappointedly, placing the vegetable back into its bin on the wall. "How about bananas?"

I shake my head 'no' and smile at his playful behavior. He picks up a bunch of celery and raises an eyebrow. I shake my head 'no' again.

"Hmmm," he says, traveling down the produce aisle in front of my cart. "I wonder what will satisfy you tonight…for dinner."

"We do need a couple of cucumbers, Edward."

"A couple?" he shoots back. "One's not enough now?"

**/-2:30 PM-/**

Hearing Edward's footsteps approaching down the hall, I quickly tuck the Victoria's Secret box inside my suitcase.

"Whatcha doing?" he asks from the doorframe.

"Packing, so I can sleep a little later tomorrow."

"Good thinking," he says, turning to do the same.

**/-4:30 PM-/**

"Are you gonna look at me like that all day?" I ask him.

"Yeah, probably," he answers. "It's your own fault. You shouldn't have given me so much time to think about it."

I raise an eyebrow, "You weren't thinking about it before I mentioned it last night?"

"Well, hell yeah, I think about it all the time, Bella. I just didn't know it was _imminent_."

I tip my wrist to read my watch. "Seven hours and counting."

He checks the time. "So you're only giving me half an hour? Sorry, no, that doesn't work for me. We need to start no later than eleven. I'd say 10:30, but I think that would be way too obvious to the others."

"They don't already know?"

"What? Are you asking me if I said something?"

"Well, _I_ might've mentioned…"

"OH! I was wondering when I would learn what you and Rose were talking about while we were on that Simpsons ride!"

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not. She's your best friend and she's like your life coach."

"But you aren't saying anything to Jas or Emmett?"

"Contrary to popular belief, guys do not brag to each other about sex. Not when it really matters, anyway."

**/-7:00 PM-/**

The two of us are on Giant Salad duty, so we're standing at the counter chopping piles of vegetables when Edward leans into my ear. "Four more hours," he says, planting soft kisses up the column of my neck.

"Mmmm, you can't do that to me when I have a sharp knife in my hand."

"Bella, I have a dangerous weapon to deal with too, ya know," he warns, eyes dropping to the front of his pants.

"Nice," I chuckle. "Very romantic."

"Just sayin'," he shrugs adorably.

**/-8:00 PM-/**

Rose pops open the champagne and Alice plays deejay with her iPod, which the boys have rigged to run through the Cullen sound system. The boys prepare a makeshift dance floor by removing the large coffee table from the patch of carpet in the center of the room. Edward delivers me a glass of champagne with a kiss and a message, "Three more hours, baby."

From that point forward, his eyes never leave my body. I feel him all night. Each time he passes me, he kisses me somewhere unexpected—a shoulder, a wrist. His hungry eyes follow me into the kitchen, toward the bathroom, on the dance floor with the girls. I remember how much Edward enjoyed watching me dance with Rose at Emmett's party, and I lay it on thick. I grind and bump and let the champagne do its magic.

It's not teasing if you're going to deliver.

**^EPOV^**

**/-8:59 PM-/**

Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve is on TV, but it's on mute. Our music is way better; we're just watching for the celebration in Times Square. But our countdown is all screwed up anyway. First of all, we're on the west coast and the ball is only dropping on 9 pm here. Secondly, I couldn't care less about midnight this year. Because Bella and I are counting down to 11:00.

**/-10:00 PM-/**

"Sixty minutes, Bella," I growl into her ear. Her entire front side is pressed against mine and I guess what we're doing could technically be called dancing, but honestly, it's just vertical making out.

Bella's eyes widen at the sixty minute notification. I reach in again so only she can hear, "This is your very last hour as a virgin. Anything you want to do?"

"Hmmm, you mean like my last meal?"

"Sure," I chuckle. "Dead woman walking."

"Nice. I want more to drink," she answers.

I chuckle, "You want to play Bizz-Buzz?"

"No way. I can't concentrate right now. I'd just get hammered and pass out."

"Well, that would be poetic. Just like Christmas." _Should I?_ I should. "And our first date."

"What? I so did _not_ pass out."

"Come on, Bella, isn't it about time to fess up?"

"Well, maybe just for a second," she finally admits.

I grin at her long overdue admission. "How about if the two of us have a private toast?"

"Perfect," she answers, smile broadening.

I pull her from the dance floor over to the makeshift bar area. In addition to the beer and champagne, my parents have allowed us one bottle of Patron Silver. I pour out two shots and hand one to Bella.

"To ending 2011 in style," I toast.

"The end of an era," she answers, clinking my glass with hers.

"And the start of something new," I add, before drinking down my tequila. Her eyes never leave mine as she empties her glass.

**/-10:40 PM-/**

My lips pause at her ear. "Twenty more minutes, Virgin," I whisper breathily.

She stands shakily and announces, "We should probably start cleaning up now."

"What? Why?" Emmett asks.

"I'm pretty tired," she attempts to cover.

"Me, too," I quickly come to her aid, clearing an armful of bottles and disposing of them in the recycling bin.

"What's with you two? It's not even mid-," Emmett accuses, but Rose cuts him off with a firm elbow jab, bless her heart.

"Don't be one of those New Year's Eve bullies, Emmett. It's already 2012 back at school," she says, and I catch Rose and Bella exchanging knowing looks.

Jasper, oblivious, but still a little jetlagged, stands and yawns mightily. "I could certainly hit the hay. How about you, Alice?"

"Sounds good."

Emmett stands, bewildered, in the center of the room, watching as everyone around him starts cleaning up and ending the party. Realizing he's outnumbered, he shakes his head and says with a great deal of disdain, "Freshmen."

"Hey!" Rose protests, with a smack to his gut. Poor Emmett's getting all kinds of physically abused.

"Not you, Baby," he tries, but Rose is still scowling. "Oh fine, let's pack it in."

**/-10:50 PM-/**

"Give me ten minutes and then meet me in your bedroom?"

"Rrrrrrrrr!" I roll my tongue at her a la Roy Orbison.

**~BPOV~**

I glide up the staircase as elegantly as I can. My heart is pounding when I reach my room and push open the door. Rose is waiting for me with an encouraging smile.

"You ready?" she asks.

"So ready."

"Mind if I ask what you're wearing for the occasion?" she asks. Good ol' Nosy Rosy.

I unzip my suitcase and pull out the pink striped box. "Sue bought me this…thing at Victoria's Secret. It's a navy blue slip with a silk wrap robe that matches."

"Classy, B," she smiles, standing to give me a hug. "Remember, just relax and let Edward lead."

A shiver shoots down my spine. "I've gotta go. He's coming up soon."

"Enjoy. Happy New Year, Bella."

"You too, Rose."

I grab a few essentials from the bathroom, give Rose a hug, and tuck the signature pink box under my arm. Making sure Edward's not upstairs yet, I slink down the hall and into his room. I head straight to his bathroom and lock myself in. I pull off my clothes quickly and run a soapy washcloth all along my body, pleased that my skin is still soft and smooth from this morning's shave. My soft hairbrush produces a silky shine on my hair. I brush my teeth, use some of Edward's mouthwash, and finally, pull on my silk lingerie. The slip feels so luxurious against my bare skin. There's a matching thong, but I decide to leave it in the pile with my clothes. At the last minute, I pull the robe around my shoulders and tie it in a bow at my waist.

I hear the outer door open and close and I know Edward's waiting for me in his bedroom. I give him a few minutes to get ready, whatever that means to him. I visualize him pulling off his shirt and throwing it in his laundry hamper. Maybe he'll take off his pants, maybe he'll decide to leave them on? Shit, what if he needs the bathroom? This is awkward, suddenly. I don't want to just open the door on him, even though I know he isn't modest in the least.

I knock softly on the inside of the bathroom door. "Edward?"

"Yeah," he laughs. "Were you hoping for someone else?"

"Do you need to get in the bathroom…_first_?" Gah, I'm glad he can't see me blushing madly right now.

"I'm good, Bella. I used Emmett's bathroom."

"Are you ready for me?"

"Bella, I've been ready for you since October! Come on out."

_Here goes nothing!_

I push open the door cautiously, and I'm relieved to find that the lights are off. The room is dimly lit by moonlight shining through the blinds. I hear Edward gasp, and I realize he's standing right in front of the bathroom door, undressed except for a pair of loose boxers like the ones he's been sleeping in all week. His gorgeous muscular chest is glimmering in the muted light, and his hair almost appears to be glowing. His expressive emerald eyes glint back at me like a cat's eyes in the dark. He's so beautiful right now, it actually makes my heart hurt.

I want this. I want _him_.

I notice music playing, some sexy acoustic guitar piece with an entire orchestra as background. I realize this is Edward getting us warmed up. So sweet.

He steps toward me. It's not aggressive, the way it was in the dressing room at the mall, but my body responds the way it always does when Edward is near. Even more so tonight, with expectations so high. My breathing speeds up; my heart beats rapidly; I'm on edge awaiting his first touch. He lifts his hand to my temple and draws his fingers through my hair and behind my ear, cupping the back of my neck. My whole body leans into his hand.

"_Bésame, bésame mucho,"_ Edward sings along with the wildly romantic voice. I know just enough Spanish to understand that he's about to kiss me again and again.

He brings the back of his other hand to my face and gently brushes his knuckles along my cheek. _"Como si fuera esta noche la última vez."_ When his lips cover mine for the first time, my only regret is that he's stopped serenading me. Maybe another time, I muse, falling into his whispery kisses.

I loop my arms lazily around the back of his neck. He's rocking us to the sexy Latin beat of the bongo drums and humming while he kisses me, driving me nuts. While I so appreciate he's taking his time and not rushing things, I'm suddenly wishing I'd just come out naked so right now we'd be skin against bare skin in this juicy embrace.

**^EPOV^**

Gotta love Andrea Bocelli for recording this song. It wasn't easy sneaking away from Bella for even half an hour earlier today to pull together this play list, but I knew right away that this song from our high school Spanish class would lead things off. I'm pretty sure Senora DaCosta had a thing for Andrea, and _blech_, I am so not thinking about her right now!

Bella completely blows me away with this sexy outfit for our special night; it doesn't seem like she'd have the nerve to buy something like this for herself. Then again, if she shopped with Rosalie and Alice, anything could happen. Well, almost anything, I chuckle to myself, recalling my prudish girlfriend's response to our trip to Good Vibrations.

Her silky robe slips coolly along my bare chest as we pulsate together to the beat. The thin layer between us doesn't mask her excitement any better than it does mine, and I'm confident moving on.

Andrea gives way to Enrique Iglesias. I break apart our lips and sing the first couple of verses while we continue to sway. My hands move to her hips.

"_Would you dance if I asked you to dance?  
><em>_Would you run and never look back?"_

Her eyes are locked on mine, innocent and trusting. I pull at the sash holding her robe together, and the bow easily comes undone. Bella's breath hitches as the silky fabric of her robe falls open.

"_Would you cry if you saw me crying?  
><em>_Would you save my soul tonight?"_

Sliding my hands under the material at her shoulders, I draw my fingertips across her shoulders, dragging the robe down both arms and leaving it to puddle behind her on the floor.

"_Would you tremble if I touched your lips?  
><em>_Would you laugh? Oh please, tell me this.  
><em>_Now, would you die for the one you love?  
><em>_Hold me in your arms tonight."_

"You're so beautiful, Bella," I tell her, my fingers meandering along the bare skin at her neck and arms. The dark blue slip shimmers in the soft lighting and even in the dark, I can see the contrast with her creamy skin. It's as if I'm seeing her through the blue filter of a movie camera, an ethereal quality permeates our scene. Not that Enrique needs my help, but I've always loved this line, so I sing with him:

"_You…take…my breath away."_

I draw her close to my body again, and I let her feel what she's doing to me. My hands slide down her back and over the curve of her ass, and it's clear that she's got nothing on under this thin slip. This realization clouds my mind momentarily, and I fist a handful of the fabric while I try to get hold of myself again.

"Ahhhh," Bella groans, feeling the material scrunching up and exposing her. My other hand smoothes down over her bare bottom.

"God, Bella, your skin is so soft."

Bella responds by pushing her hips forward and grinding against me. Fuck, I'm trying so hard to be a good boy tonight. I considered the benefits of taking the edge off earlier, but I figured if Bella waited 18 years, the least I could do is hold out another few hours myself.

I disengage my body from hers with great difficulty, recognizing this as the granddaddy of foreplay sessions. My fingers reach for her neck, leaving feathery soft caresses on their way down to the bare skin of her chest and the luxurious silk that covers the curve of her breasts. Her nipples reach for my hands as I pass over them, and my fingers linger and play. I will deny her nothing tonight.

"Nnn….nnnggggh….ahhhhhh…..mmm," her little sounds of need punctuate each touch.

One hand dances down her stomach and finds the end of the nightie at the top of her thighs. My fingertips slip under the hem and stroke her lightly. I find her slippery and wanting: my very favorite way to find my girlfriend. She swoons and brings one hand to my lowered shoulder for balance.

"You are so _wet_," I observe hungrily.

"Mmmmm," she moans, earning herself another sleight of hand. Bella rocks a little on her feet, and it occurs to me that this is why some very wise person invented the bed. Suddenly, I lift her off her feet with one hand under her knees and one behind her back. I deliver her gingerly on top of the comforter, setting her head lovingly on the pile of pillows and crawling right on top of her.

**~BPOV~**

He nuzzles his nose in close to mine and closes his eyes for a few seconds, pausing to gather himself. When he reopens his eyes and shines their green intensity into my own, I read pure desire. It sends a chill down my spine that ends just at the edge of my slip.

_I can be your hero, Baby.  
><em>_I can kiss away the pain.  
><em>_I will stand by you forever  
><em>_You…take…my breath away._

Edward pushes himself up to his knees and settles between my legs, flattening his palms against my thighs. His thumbs work toward my opening, but he's only teasing. He grasps both sides of the hem of my slip and slides it slowly upwards. He marvels at each new inch that's revealed. My own eyes are riveted to his; I don't ever want to forget the way he's looking at me right now—so loving, so intent, so desirous. I squirm under his scrutiny and experience a new wave of need for this perfect man.

The silk slips over my nipples and my breasts, and I can't tell if the shiver is because I'm exposed or in response to the way his tongue swipes out across his lower lip. He gently places one finger atop each mound and slides them slowly, torturously, down, circling the nipples, continuing down, down, down, toward the dark triangle. I buck when his hands near my slit, but he stays outside, teasing me. He reverses his motion, using the back of those same two fingers, all the way back up and over the peaks. I lie perfectly still, except for the heaving of my chest, every molecule focused on where those fingers will go next. He does this several times, up and down, watching me keenly. He must see the moisture accumulating at my opening, my body literally weeping for his attention.

Mercifully, or maybe not so much, on his next pass, he draws his fingers closer together and they pass tantalizingly down my lower lips, to which I respond, "Nnnnnnnnnnn," with a breathy, needy moan and a squirm. On the next pass upwards, he draws his fingers straight through the slick epicenter of my lust. "Ahhhhhhhh!" I exclaim, but the pleasure is over almost before it began. He takes his time at my nipples, adding a slight pinch, before wandering back down again. I'm mentally mapping his travels along with him, his eager, horny copilot. Just to make me a little crazier, he stops this last time just at the edge of my pubic mound, making me beg for him.

"Edward, please. I _neeeeed_ you." _Gah_, the sound of my own beseeching pushes me further down the rabbit hole.

As if he forgot I was even here, he draws his eyes up from my body to regard my face.

"I need you, too, Baby," he answers in a husky voice, just before setting his mouth down on my body, exactly where I ache for him.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," I moan, taking in the new sensation of his flattened tongue against my opening. Looking down, all I can see is the top of his head moving over me, and all I can feel is the fluttering of his soft, wet tongue inside my body. With one hand on either side, Edward opens me and continues to lap at me, ever so gently, ever so maddeningly. My attention is focused 100% on that single spot and what Edward's mouth is doing to me. His soft grunts expose his desire and refuel mine, not to mention the effect the reverberations have on my body.

_Birds flyin' high  
><em>_You know how I feel  
><em>_Sun in the sky  
><em>_You know I feel  
><em>_Reeds driftin' on by  
><em>_You know I feel_

_It's a new dawn,  
><em>_It's a new day,  
><em>_It's a new life for me,  
><em>_And I'm feeling good!_

Yes, Muse, I'm feeling good, too! I cannot get over the intimacy of this act, cannot get past the fact that Edward's face is buried deep in my pussy. Until, that is, he lifts that face right up and smiles gloriously at me, his lips shiny with my juices.

I have to admit, I'm thrilled when he replaces his attentions to my girl parts with his amazing fingers. Somehow he knows exactly how to tease me, and soon, I'm right back to where I was moments ago, twisting under his ministrations, silently willing him not to stop until the job is done. He hops up and sits back on his haunches, pushing my thighs further open with his knees. Two fingers touch down together and draw tiny, slow circles around and around my most sensitive spot.

Around and around and around and around…Oh God, OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD…

"Don't stop! Don't stop! Mmmmmmm…."

**^EPOV^**

Her breathing turns to panting and she balls up the bed sheets in her hands. Her cute little noises match up with my motion, speeding up but getting no firmer.

"Ahhh…Ahhhh...Ahhhh…Ahhh…"

Fuck, if I didn't need this boner, I'd be shamelessly rubbing against her leg right now.

I see the beginnings of her orgasm. I cover her gently with the heel of my hand and let her rock into me only as hard as she needs. Her voice is airy and sweet and so extremely out of control.

"Come for me, beautiful girl."

She shows me her pleasure without censoring herself for modesty or shame.

After, she places her hand on top of mine, where it still rests against her body, and caresses me lovingly. I clamber up her body and drop my face near hers.

"Mind if I kiss you?" I ask, unsure whether she'd be squicked out by her own taste.

"I don't know. What do I taste like?"

"Sex," I answer immediately.

"Could you be more specific please?"

"You want colorful language, Professor?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Let's see…the heady scent of musk combined with the sweet taste of fruity nectar. How's that?"

"A+, Mr. Cullen."

I smile, "So, you want some?"

"Yeah," she answers, wrapping her hands behind my neck and pulling me down. I touch down gently on her lips, letting her drink in as much as she wants of her own flavor.

"What do you think?"

"More musk than fruit, but not bad…if you're in the mood."

"Oh, Bella, I am _definitely_ in the mood."

Bella shimmies to a sitting position, pulling her slip over her head and tossing it to the floor in the process. She crooks her finger, beckoning my lower body closer, which is not something she needs to ask me twice. Not ever, but most certainly, not right this moment.

I promptly walk myself to her left side on my knees. Bella shoves one hand aggressively under the elastic waist of my boxers. "Your turn," she announces, surprising me with a few quick jerks.

"Be my guest," I answer with a wide grin, which she answers with one of her own. One hand on each of my hips, she carefully slides my boxers down my thighs to my knees, and I pull them the rest of the way off and toss them onto her abandoned slip.

"Mmmm, is that _all_ for me?" she asks.

Perfect timing for Seal to click on, with his version of _Here I Am, Baby_.

_I can't believe that it's real  
><em>_The way that you make me feel_

"Only you, Bella."

_I'm burning deep down inside  
><em>_A love that I cannot hide…_

My tip is already wet by the time her hands reach me again, touching me playfully, rolling and sliding her fingers over me, fondling my balls. I'm slick and slippery and every point of contact is pure joy.

_Here I am, baby, come and take me  
><em>_Here I am baby, come on and take me  
><em>_Take me by the hand_

"Take me by the hand," I sing along, as Bella heeds my request. She grips me tighter, pumping me as if she means business.

_I know it don't take that much from me  
><em>'_Fore my cup runs over  
><em>_It's this love inside me  
><em>_I can't help it, there's gonna be an explosion, HEY!_

Speaking of explosions, I have to stop her right now. I need to save myself and my stamina for the Main Event. Placing my hand over hers, I warn, "You better stop that."

Even in the dark, at this close range, I can see her eyes widen as the reality sets in. It's time.

"Still have a little buzz on?" I ask her.

"Mmm hmm," the edges of her lips curl up slightly.

"You know how much I love you, right?" I ask, suddenly desperate to know that she knows the depth of my emotions.

"Yes," she answers confidently. _Good_.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes…but probably not half as much as you," she responds with a gentle smile.

Truth be told, I _am_ anxious about hurting her. She's always given me her trust so freely and without limits. I don't ever want to do anything to cause her to regret that.

"I'll get over it," I feign boldness, masking my anxiety.

**~BPOV~**

It occurs to me I might be his first…virgin.

"You're not gonna hurt me, you know."

"How are you so sure?" he asks, cocking his head slightly with the question.

"Edward, you are the most considerate, gentle person I've ever known. You were protecting me even before we were a couple." I'm sure he remembers his strange conclusion that I was afraid of his touch, and the extra effort he always made to ensure I wasn't uncomfortable around him. "I've never been treated with such care by anyone before."

"Well, you deserve it, Bella. You should always be treated like a queen."

"Edward?" I whisper.

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready."

_She can kill with her smile and she can wound with her eyes  
><em>_She can ruin your faith with her casual lies  
><em>_And she only reveals what she wants you to see  
><em>_And she hides like a child but she's always a woman to me…_

"Okay."

_She'll bring out the best and the worst you can be  
><em>_Blame it all on yourself 'cause she's always a woman to me_

He bends over and kisses me again and lifts up just so our noses are touching. "This changes everything, you know."

"What do you mean? We won't still be us?" Now he's scaring me a little.

"We'll still be us, only _more_. I can't explain it better than that because I've never felt like this about anyone before you. I love you so much, Bella."

"I love you, too, Edward," I say automatically, because it's so true it's not even funny.

"One more," he mutters before leaning in and pressing his lips and tongue against mine. It's as if he soaks up energy from kisses. Like my lips are his sun and he's a solar panel.

He reaches under the pillow before sitting up on his knees, and I realize he's retrieved a foil packet from where he must have stashed it earlier. I watch with fascination as he rolls the condom over his erection. Just think, once my pills kick in, he won't have to do that anymore.

"Slide back down," he demands huskily, eyeing my naked body just beyond his hard-on. He passes one hand from my left shoulder down to my hip. "Tilt up for me?" he requests, propping me up on my right side, facing away from him. I feel his hard body settle in close behind me, as he slides his right arm under me and loops his left over my waist.

_And the most she will do is throw shadows at you  
><em>_But she's always a woman to me._

His lips trail kisses along the column of my neck, and I feel the puff of air near my ear when he talks to me in a low, soothing voice.

"I know this doesn't seem very romantic, but it'll be more comfortable for you. And I'm right here, Bella."

"Okay," I answer, trying to hide my disappointment. I suppose I had the missionary position or a variant thereof playing through my head, something where we'd be face to face.

_Wise men say only fools rush in  
><em>_But I can't help falling in love with you.  
><em>_Shall I stay? Would it be a sin  
><em>_If I can't help falling in love with you. ?_

Edward pulls me back against his chest. His hard length rests against my soft bottom, and his knee parts my legs. I take a deep breath, scared for the first time tonight. This is real. This is it!

Edward's hand lifts my top knee from behind and gently drapes my entire left leg back over his hip. He widens my opening with one hand and now I feel the insistent prodding of his tip between my legs. The image of a confused bird banging repeatedly against the window pops into my head and I can't seem to erase it.

Edward's hand is there to guide him inside me, but every time I feel the head press against me, I have the urge to pull away. Forget about length; it doesn't seem possible I can handle his girth.

"Relax, Sweetheart. Trust me. '_Take my hand; take my whole life, too. For I can't help falling in love with you.'_"He joins Elvis and croons right into my ear. I focus on his voice.

One finger slips inside me. "Mmmmm," I relax for him, not fighting the sensation.

"That's my girl," he soothes, sliding in a second finger along with the first. "Does that feel good, Baby?"

"Mmmm," I repeat. It actually feels great, especially when his hand hits against my body at the base of his fingers.

**^EPOV^**

God, she's so fucking tight. I never really paid attention before, because it was only ever a finger, but now? Shit.

I slide a third finger in, praying I'm not hurting her, praying even harder it will be enough. Not bragging, but I'm larger than average, Emmett's teasing aside. I try distracting her with my right hand at her nipple, pinching and kneading her, while I line myself up at her entrance. Using my left hand to open her lips, I press my tip against her body and adjust myself until I find the perfect angle. She's wet and the condom is well lubricated, but she's still tense and resisting. I know she wants it, but her body is telling her to reject me.

"Can you feel me right here?" I speak into her ear, pressing as I do. "Do you still want this, Bella?"

"Yes," she says shakily. "It just…kind of feels…"

"What, Bella? Tell me…_please_."

"It feels like you're stabbing me."

_Shit! _I lift her leg off me and tip it forward, so it rests against the bed on the other side of her. I shift so I can reach her from this angle and try pressing forward again. Tap…tap…pushhhhhhhhh. The tip slides in past the outer lips, finally, and I hold.

"Breathe, Bella."

She blows out a breath, and I feel her whole body relax. "That better, Baby?"

"Yes," she says. "It's good…I think."

This is it. I'm only one serious thrust away from what we both want. I grasp her left hand in mine and pull our clasped hands around her waist, holding her tightly. I drop my lips to the crook of her neck and warn, "Here we go! Deep breath…"

Her chest expands, and I plunge inside in one swift motion.

"AAAYYYYYEEEEEEEE!" she squeals, scaring the daylights out of me and halting me in my tracks.

"Fuck, Bella, you okay?"

"Yeah," she answers, still holding her breath.

"Should I stop?"

As much as I want this, I'd never enjoy myself if I thought I was hurting her.

"No," she answers quietly. "Keep going." _Christ_, she sounds like she's gritting her teeth. Not exactly what I was hoping for…

"Bella, I-"

"Edward," she says evenly. "I want this. _Make love to me_."

I am a weak man. Those words just knock me right over dead. And I can't possibly deny her.

Unclasping our hands, I hook mine under Bella's knee and really concentrate on visualizing the path of her inner walls. My next two thrusts still cause her to flinch, and when I'm just about ready to lose heart, we finally connect in just the right way. I slide all the way inside her and my balls slap against her body where we're joined.

Bella lets out a surprised, "Ahhh!" and rocks back into my next motion. "Mmmm," she moans, relaxing her muscles and getting comfortable around me. She angles herself and pushes back into me with each thrust so that I penetrate even deeper inside.

"Does that feel good?" _Say yes_, I pray.

"Yesss," she hisses. "Mmmmm."

Knowing she's enjoying this now, I finally concentrate on my own pleasure. I enter her again and again, more enthusiastically each time. Our bodies, damp with sweat and shared effort, are molded together. She picks up on my rhythm and increases the force every time we collide.

"Ahh…I feel you…inside me!"

_Holy shit! _"God, Bella, you're so hot and tight!"

"Mmmmmmm!"

"Nnnnnnnggggg!"

"Ahhhhhhhh"

Desperate for Bella to share my climax, I slide my hand to her clit and strum it gently. She grinds against my hand in front and pounds onto my cock behind.

And that's when Rufus Wainwright takes over:

_I've heard there was a secret chord  
><em>_That David played and it pleased the Lord  
><em>_But you don't really care for music, do you?_

_It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth  
><em>_The minor fall, the major lift  
><em>_The baffled king composing hallelujah  
><em>_Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
><em>_Hallelujah, Hallelu-jah…_

**~BPOV~**

Hallelujah—the perfect expression of this moment. I allow the miracle of our love to wash over me and I fully surrender to the beauty of the music, the moment, and the incredible boy joined with me in this perfect intimacy.

_There was a time you'd let me know  
><em>_What's real and going on below  
><em>_But now you never show it to me, do you?  
><em>_And remember when I moved in you…_

Lord, how he _moves_ in me! I cover his hand with mine and feel his fingers caressing me. His grunts are coming closer together and his thrusts are more urgent.

"Coming…ungh….OH GOD...Come! With! Me!" he rasps.

"Mmmmm," I answer unintelligibly.

_The holy dark was moving too  
><em>_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah  
><em>_Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
><em>_Hallelujah, Hallelu-jah…_

Amidst the plaintive Hallelujahs, Edward lifts to his peak, losing himself completely in the sensation. He holds his breath and strangles me in his desperate grip for three whole seconds while he stills and explodes inside me.

It's a silent scream that's felt but not heard. I feel a part of it more than ever before, this act that gives him so much pleasure happened inside the depths of _my_ body. Not like when I took him in my mouth; no, that was superficial compared to the way he's buried inside me right now.

His breath is heavy at my neck and his fingers resume their purposeful stroking as he comes down from his high. He wants to draw me out again, but I don't need it or want it. His warm body wrapped around and inside mine is everything I desire. Placing my hand over his, I loop our fingers together. _That's not the point,_ I tell him wordlessly. I draw his arm up my body and bring his hand to my lips.

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
><em>_Hallelujah, Hallelu-jah_

"Happy New Year, Edward," I whisper, filled to the brim with satisfaction and love.

"The happiest," he agrees.

The moving strains of Hallelujah give way to an orchestral introduction, and Aerosmith's _I Don't Want To Miss a Thing._ Edward sings softly behind me, almost a purr:

"_I could stay awake just to hear you breathing  
><em>_Watch you smile while you are sleeping  
>While you're far away and dreaming<br>__I could spend my life in this sweet surrender  
><em>_I could stay lost in this moment forever  
><em>_Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure…"_

Edward taps me gently my shoulder and I twist my neck around. "Hmm?" I ask, still dreamy from his sexy singing.

His grin is huge. "I haven't told you yet this year how much I love you."

I reach my hand to his cheek, wrenching my lips to his in this awkward position to kiss him, because it is always so very worth it. Steven Tyler handles the next verse while our lips and tongues connect.

_I don't want to close my eyes. I don't want to fall asleep  
><em>'_Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing  
><em>'_Cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream of you would never do  
><em>_I'd still miss you babe and I don't want to miss a thing._

"Well, go ahead then," I respond, when my neck can't handle the contortion a moment longer.

"I love you so much, Bella."

_Lying close to you feeling your heart beating  
><em>_And I'm wondering what you're dreaming wondering if it's me you're seeing  
><em>_Then I'd kiss your eyes and thank God we're together  
><em>_And I just wanna stay with you in this moment forever_

_I don't wanna miss one smile  
><em>_I don't wanna miss one kiss  
><em>_I just wanna be with you right here with you just like this  
><em>_I just want to hold you close I feel your heart so close to mine  
><em>_And you'll stay here in this moment for the rest of time._

**^EPOV^**

Trailing a few kisses on her shoulder, I reluctantly pull out. Bella whines at my absence, causing me to chuckle while I tie off the condom. "Be right back," I promise, running my hand down her back before rolling off the bed.

True to my word, I return right away to find her lying on her back. I press the warm washcloth against her tender body. "Mmmm, that feels nice," she hums.

"Do you feel sore?"

"Not really."

"Ready to go again?" I tease.

"Not so much," she chuckles. "But thanks for the offer."

"Any time," I answer. "No, really, Bella. I mean it. _Any_ time. _Any_ place. _Any_ position. I'm your man."

"Good to know, Edward. Thanks," she smiles.

"You were holding out on me," I accuse, causing her to click her eyes over at me. I'm propped on one elbow on my side, and I dangle her navy blue matching thong over her belly button.

"Hmm," she considers. "I thought less would be more."

"There's certainly something to be said for that…but next time? I think this could be awfully fun."

She giggles. "With or without the rest of the outfit?"

"If you won't go round two right now, you really can't say stuff like that to me," I growl. "Where did you get that outfit anyway? It was perfect."

"Sue bought it for me for Christmas."

"Ahhh." That makes more sense. "I knew I liked Sue."

"So…the music?"

"Yeah? Did you like it?"

"It was as if you scored the whole thing to match the choreography. How did you know?"

"You only gave me till midnight. I had to stay on topic."

"Well, it was perfect."

"Hard to go wrong with Elvis, Andrea, and Enrique."

"I wasn't just talking about the music, Edward."

She brings her hand to my temple and rakes her fingers through my hair.

I don't know what to say.  
><em>Thanks?<br>YOU'RE perfect?  
>You feel like heaven around me?<br>__Next time I'm definitely looking into your eyes?_

It doesn't matter that I have no words, because they'd never get out over the huge lump in my throat. Sometimes, there just isn't anything to say.

"Play the first song again for me?" she asks sweetly.

As the iPod is on "her" side of the bed, I smirk before diving across her naked body with mine to push 'play'.

"Mmmmff!" she exclaims, trapping me with her hand on my back.

I turn up the volume and flood the room with the acoustic guitar. Scooting myself back, I line up my body with Bella's, tossing the wet washcloth out of our way. My toes extend a few inches past hers, but we're knee to knee, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, and chest to chest. Soft skin against soft skin.

I love that we can just be together like this, no tension left in the air, no barriers between us, no more big things that I've done that she hasn't experienced. I'm resting on my elbows just smiling like a happy fool at my girlfriend.

"Sing," she whispers, as the orchestra fills in.

I sing:

"_Bésame, bésame mucho  
>Como si fuera esta noche<br>La última vez_

_Bésame, bésame mucho  
>Que tengo miedo a perderte,<br>__Perderte después."_

My song is a whisper at close range. I guess she doesn't like my singing very much, because I get no further than the second verse when she wraps her hands behind my neck and pulls my lips down to hers.

**~BPOV~**

I love Edward's singing, but I love his kisses more.

**/-THE NEXT DAY-/**

**^EPOV^**

"Dad, please, can't you make Mom stop crying?"

"She'll be fine as soon as you all go inside the airport. It's just the saying goodbye that makes her so sad," he explains.

"Still, she's making me feel awful," I tell him, watching Mom hug Bella, full waterworks display coming from both sets of eyes. "Ugh, now Bella's crying," I lament further.

"Give me a hug, Edward, and stop worrying about your mother. We'll be just fine."

I step into his grasp and he gives me a warm, strong hug. "Thanks for everything, Dad. This was the best Christmas ever," I say, my eyes wandering to my present as Mom finally releases her.

"It was great to have you home. Any time you want to bring Bella, she's welcome."

Truth is, I'd already started secretly plotting how to get Bella to agree to spend the summer with us. The program I work for is always looking for great reading coaches to work with the kids, and Bella would be a fabulous addition to the staff. But I haven't had the courage to broach the topic with her quite yet.

Dad releases me, with a final bit of advice, "Stay on top of your work now. You know you can do it, but don't get careless."

"I won't, Dad. I promise."

"Good," he says, with a final clap on my back. "Safe trip, Edward."

_Stay well.  
>Take care of Mom.<br>Be careful driving home_.

I step aside for Bella, and Dad pulls her in for a gentle embrace. They mumble softly to each other, and I admire how naturally Bella fits with my family. Jasper and Alice have already said their thank-yous and they're already in line for security.

Mom finishes with Rosalie and allows herself to be swept up by Emmett in an exuberant bear hug. He always brings a smile to her face, and I'm a bit jealous of that, because I just know when it's my turn, I'm going to get the tears. I step closer to the two of them, and I hear Emmett's last minute words of advice.

"Now, Ma, do not let Dad make you cook for him more than three times a week. And make sure he only works late every _other_ Saturday. Don't let those old guys at the shelter boss you around. And stay away from HBO; you know it's too violent for you. And…"

"Emmett," she giggles, "I've got it, Sweetie. Thanks."

He sets her down and points his finger at her. In his most serious voice, he says, "I _will_ be getting reports on you."

"Don't point, dear. It's not polite. You know this, Emmett."

"Yes, Ma," he says good-naturedly, giving her one last peck on the cheek.

"You take care of that beautiful girl of yours, okay?"

"You bet I will, Ma."

She turns to me and reaches her hands out for mine. "Edward."

I'm mush. "Mom." _Could you please not make me cry?_

She lets go of my hands once I get close enough for her to wrap her hands around my back. "I'm so proud of you. I do miss you when you're gone."

"I know, Mom."

"It was so wonderful having you home."

"Thanks for everything," I speak near her ear. "It was a great vacation."

"I'm glad you boys enjoyed yourselves. I'm so happy for you, Edward. Bella's a lovely girl. And she's so good for you."

"I know, Mom."

She pulls back to give me one of her looks. "And she's the luckiest girl on earth to get _you_, Edward."

I chuckle. "I'll be sure to tell her that if she forgets."

"You do that," she smiles. I see the tears welling in her eyes, but she doesn't spill them this time. _Thank you._

**~BPOV~**

Poor Edward. The goodbyes are hard on him, and who could blame him? He has a wonderful life here, and he's going so far from home. Plus, between the whispers and the playful cuddling, we hardly got any sleep last night. As much as I can't wait to get back to school, it was really hard to tear ourselves away from the intimate little bubble we'd built for ourselves in Edward's bed when the alarm went off this morning.

Wise parents that they are, Carlisle and Esme waited for all of us downstairs this morning when they arrived home. Even though they didn't see me come out of Edward's bedroom, I feel like what we did last night is written all over my face for everyone to see. I can't possibly look the same when I feel like an entirely different person this morning. This year.

But if Carlisle and Esme have detected anything unusual, they're far too polite to comment on it, thank the lord. Rose is another story entirely. She cornered me in the car and pumped me for details, very few of which I provided.

"_Was he amazing?"…"Did it hurt?"…"How'd you do it?"…"Did you have an orgasm?"_

"Rose, I'm sorry. I just don't feel like sharing this," I told her. She got the message and stopped asking.

O)(O

We've raised the arm between us so I'm nestled in, my back to Edward's front as he leans against the window. Beneath the meager square of fleece provided by the airline, both his arms are around me, and all four of our hands are clasped in my lap. Because of the seatbelt regulation, we're not as close as I'd like to be, but my cheek rests against his heart and I can feel every beat. The word 'content' floats around happily in my head as we both doze on and off all the way back to Manchester. Jasper's slumped in his chair next to me, with Alice across the aisle, and Emmett and Rose are cuddled similarly to the two of us. Emmett's loud snores can be heard throughout the cabin, I'm sure. Every once in a while, Rose gives him an elbow jab to quiet him down.

Weary from our trip and hung over in varying degrees from our celebration, the six of us make our way back to the dorms from where the bus delivers us on campus. It's dinnertime at school, though it feels like earlier to us, and we're happy to fill our stomachs in the cafeteria and pair off for bed.

"I'm going to have to learn your new schedule," I tell him, studying our two grids side by side on my desk.

"Well, at least we still have Monday, Wednesday and Fridays at 9 together for History of Rock."

"It looks like you have Entrepreneurial Management at the same time I have Transcendentalism, and they're pretty close together-"

"Trans-a-_what-now_?"

"Never mind. Okay, Econ and Marketing are on Tuesdays and Thursdays from one to four in the afternoon. That's good…you can sleep in on those days."

"Yeah, and you don't have Shakespearean Tragedies until 10:30, so we're all good."

"Looks like our only bad night will be Wednesdays when I have Academic Writing from seven to ten."

"That sounds brutal," he says, a look of real anguish crossing his face and making me giggle.

"It shouldn't be _that_ bad. Besides, I've got Banner," I smile.

"Teacher's pet," he grins, rolling his eyes.

"You're just jealous," I retort.

"Oh yeah, because I'd really like to be writing academic shit and reading transatlantic intergalactic literature," he smirks.

"Oh my God. You are totally asking for it," I stalk toward him.

Luckily, he's standing right in front of my bed when he smiles and says, "Bring it, Bella." I think it's the little hand motion beckoning me towards him that really seals the deal.

I launch myself through the air and tackle him to the bed. He looks delightfully surprised at my attack and thrilled to be knocked flat on his back with me atop his midsection. I grab his hands and lift them above his head, holding them against the mattress. He gives me another giant smirk and challenges, "_Now_, what are you gonna do, Bella?"

"I am gonna love the living shit out of you, Edward Cullen."

"Have at it, Baby," he answers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 1: **_Epilogue posts next Friday...time for these two to ride off into the sunset together!_

_EDWARD'S PLAYLIST FOR BELLA'S FIRST TIME_:  
>Andrea Bocelli, <em>Bésame<em>_ Mucho  
><em>Enrique Iglesias, _Hero  
><em>Muse_, Feeling Good  
><em>Seal, _Here I am, Baby  
><em>Billy Joel, _She's Always a Woman  
><em>Elvis Presley, _Fools Rush In  
><em>Rufus Wainwright, _Hallelujah  
><em>Aerosmith, _I Don't Want To Miss a Thing_

**A/N 2**:_ Would you like to participate in the Twi-Girls Next Door author-of-the-month interview? Feel free to email your burning question about me (LOL) to http:/ /bit . ly/pjx2Ty before October 15th and they'll include it! Be gentle, girls! ~BOH_


	22. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE  
><strong>**Freshman Orientation, 2036**

**^EPOV^**

The commotion across the room distracts me from the sight of Bella putting the finishing touches on Nathan's bed.

"Nic, come _on_," he pleads, "those are my favorite shorts."

"You don't get it, Nate. Your baggy six-year-old kelly green camp shorts send the exact wrong message. Trust me, I know what Holden girls like."

"Dad…a little help?" he pleads.

"Sorry, kiddo," I answer, stretching out my arms in apology. "You may know your way around the golf course, but I think I'd trust your big sister in the wardrobe department."

"Ugh!" he exclaims, tossing his frustrated body across his bed. "I've been doing fine at home without you for the past three years."

"New England is different," she sagely advises him. "Besides, the girls here don't know your reputation. You might actually have to work at it a little."

"Only till your first match," I encourage him, adding a sly wink that is unfortunately caught by my wife.

Bella rolls her eyes and rounds the bed to stand at my side. "Is that all the wisdom you care to share with your only son on this momentous occasion?" she asks.

"Cripes, Mom. We already had that talk a _long_ _time_ ago," Nathan complains.

"Oh yeah? What's your take away from the conversation?" she quizzes him.

Robotically, he repeats my oft-stated advice, "Act like the man I want to be in everything I do, and when I occasionally do screw up, get right to the humble apology."

"See?" I say softly into Bella's ear. "He's got it."

"Isn't it about time for you two to take your annual stroll down to Warwick?" Nic prompts.

"Come on, Dear," Bella says. "The children are done with us."

"Say goodbye to your mother, Nathan."

I watch with a strange mix of emotions as my bronze-haired, green-eyed son hugs my wife. His personality is mine, but his larger frame more closely resembles his Uncle Emmett, a trait that my brother never ceases to tease me about. It's impossible for me not to relate this moment to my own farewell hug from Mom. I remember my pang of guilt at leaving my two parents, certain that they'd have nothing to look forward to as their long, lonely days stretched ahead of them back at home. I understand my parents' position now better than ever, and like the long line of parents who've come before me, I temper my glee as I lovingly toss my baby bird from our nest.

"Try not to break too many hearts, Nathan," Bella warns as he loosens his grip.

"Don't get behind in your school work," I remind him when it's my turn.

Meanwhile, Bella wraps Nicole in a warm embrace. It strikes me again how well they've done with the whole mother-daughter thing, despite Bella's own lack of any semblance of proper mothering. Maybe it's like a natural swing; if you've got it, you've got it. If you don't, either a lifetime of frustrating lessons stretches before you, or you take the route that Bella's mother took: you just plain give up. Lucky for all of us, Bella's natural warmth and open-mindedness create the perfect foundation for her ease at mothering. And it doesn't hurt that Nicole's always been able to count on Bella for her most constructive writing advice. It's fitting that the same characteristics of Bella that first drew me to her would be the very same traits that endear her to her children. Well, minus the sexy bits, that is.

**~BPOV~**

I force myself to ignore the 'Welcome Adriana and Haley' sign as I knock on the door of Warwick 303, instead visualizing the cheerful 'Rosalie' and 'Bella' that greeted me every day of that all-important year.

"Hey!" an eager, fresh-faced co-ed greets us warmly. "What's up?"

"We're sorry to bother you, but my husband and I met here 25 years ago, and this used to be my room. Do you mind if we just"…_roll around on the bed?..._"look around for a sec?"

"Sure. I get it. Come on in. So, you two met, like, freshman year? And that was it? Love at first sight?"

I peek over at Edward, whose grin is as broad as my own. "Well, something like that," he answers.

The girl's face lights up. "I thought I felt some really positive karma in here. That's a really sweet story."

Edward's not paying any more attention to her than I am at this point. His eyes have clicked over to the bed, and I know he's thinking about our many great adventures. Though God willing, the university has had the good sense to upgrade the bed frames and mattresses since our days here. Edward's prediction that our first time would change everything was so true. From our very first day back, January 1, 2012, nothing was ever the same.

**~-1/21/2012-~**

_The moment the six of us hit the Holden campus, an unspoken agreement is reached that Rose will stay with Emmett, leaving my room for Edward and me, and his room for Alice and Jasper. The first few weeks back are heaven on earth; we have all the freedom in the world and almost nothing in the way of responsibility. We pry ourselves apart only for classes and Edward's daily trip back to his room to shower and get dressed. My inhibitions are at an all-time low, much to Edward's amusement, and he delights in "teaching" me new positions and evoking intense responses._

_But there's one thing he's held back, and I'm pretty sure I know why. This morning, I opened my new pill case and popped out that magical first pill of the new cycle, making damn certain that he saw me do it. I'm covered, we've both tested negative for everything, all systems are go._

"_Done yet?" he asks for the seventeenth time._

"_Almost," I repeat, the difference being, this time I mean it. I put the finishing touches on my analysis of 'Othello: Hero or Fool?' and email it to my professor. "I'm all yours," I tell Edward. "Thank you for waiting so patiently."_

"_I think I deserve a huge reward for that," he says hopefully, sprawled out along my bed._

"_I agree," I answer, planting my knee near his waist and curling into his left side._

_His lips automatically reach for mine, magnetic force pulled to its opposite pole._

"_So what do you want for your reward?" I ask, in between kisses._

"_Just you. _Nothing. Else_," he grins._

_o)(o_

"_Do I feel different to you?" he asks softly into my ear._

"_Mmmmm," I respond as intelligently as possible. Truth is, I do love the way he feels inside of me without any barriers, but what I love more is that we're lined up head to toe, face to face. Every inch of my body is covered with his; I have no spare parts that need more attention than what Edward can give. For the first time, we can kiss comfortably while we're joined below. Even better, I can watch his eyes express every emotion he's experiencing: love, gratitude, joy, desire…and finally, ecstasy._

~/~

**^EPOV^**

"Ready to go meet Banner?" I ask, gently squeezing her hand and pulling her from her reveries.

"Sure," she answers. We thank Adriana and stroll over to Williams Hall, where we find Professor Banner in the same office he's occupied for the last 30 years.

His door is open, and his face lights up when we knock. "So the rumor's true? You're really inflicting another male Cullen on our fragile university ecosystem?"

"Told you he always liked you better, Bella," I chuckle, opening my arms to offer him a hug.

"Come on, Michael, it's not that bad," Bella responds. "Besides, you've still got Nicole for one more year."

He reaches for Bella when I release him from our hug. "A chip off the old block, that Nicky," he smiles. "Think she'll be a published novelist like her mom by the age of 23?"

"I wouldn't rule it out," I answer. "She's got some great stories already begging to be written."

He shakes his head. "She has no shortage of ideas, that's for sure."

"Are you ready?" Bella asks him. "We have a reservation for 6:30 at The Gold Star."

"Sure. This can all wait," he says, closing his laptop and grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. Pulling his office door closed behind him, he insinuates himself right between us as we start walking. I give him a mildly dirty look at our running joke.

"You two never _could_ stand to be apart from each other," he chuckles at my discomfort.

"Not this again," I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the memory.

**~-1/2/2012-~**

"_Miss Swan, great to see you. Happy New Year," Professor Banner greets her with an outstretched hand and a genuine smile. "And Mr. Cullen? Hmm, I don't remember seeing your name on the roster. Are you adding my class?"_

_The snort escapes before I have time to rein it in. I consider asking him if there are snowballs in hell, but check my sarcasm for Bella's sake. _

"_Uh…no. I'm just delivering Bella." _

_And I'm having a little look around to see who you're pairing her with this time. I poke my face through the classroom door and attempt to survey the room._

_Banner looks at Bella and asks, "What is he doing?"_

_She laughs lightly and says, "He's saying goodbye." Turning to face me, she says, "Goodbye, Edward. I'll see you later."_

"_Okay, I'll be back at ten to pick you up."_

"_I think I can make it all the way back to the dorm by myself."_

"_No way. Not in the dark. I'll be right here waiting for you."_

"_Suit yourself," she says, shaking her head while turning to go inside. I pull her back by the hand I'm still grasping and spin her around so we're toe to toe._

"_Gimme!" I demand, giving her a serious kiss and a reminder that I'm her one and only partner._

~/~

Banner shakes his head and says, "You were always such an easy target, Edward. Your heart was always right there on your sleeve. Is that what I can expect from young Master Cullen?"

I shrug, defensive on my son's behalf. But Bella answers him swiftly, "Exactly. Close your eyes and you can't tell them apart."

He lifts his eyes to the sky dramatically. "Give me strength!"

**~BPOV~**

Edward closes my door and walks around the front to the driver's side.

"What if it's not there anymore?" I ask him, once he safely maneuvers us out onto the main road.

"It'll be there, Bella," he reassures me. "You worry every time, and it's always there."

"Did you ever stop and think maybe if I didn't worry, it would be gone?"

"That's a little messed up, Honey," he says, smiling and grasping my hand.

But my anxiety doesn't quite leave me until I see the black velvet curtain at the back of the store. "Phew…twenty dollars for three pictures! Talk about inflation!"

"That's five minutes of golf lessons. Even if it's Peter Clarke's spoiled brat of a son, it'd be worth it. Get in."

**^EPOV^**

"Edward, wait!" She startles me, peeling back the curtain as I'm about to roll the twenty into the slot.

"What is it?"

"I don't know. It's our 25th year, our 25th time doing this. Should we…maybe, do something a little different?"

I can't contain my grin. "You're finally gonna take your shirt off?" I've only been working on her for the last fifteen years.

She rolls her eyes. "You're turning into a dirty old man, you know that?"

_Call me what you will_. "Is that a yes?"

Her eyes dart around the store. As usual, we're the only ones in the place. It's a miracle they're still in business. "Fine," she finally agrees, "but we'll have to do a second one for our wall."

"Best forty bucks I'll ever spend," I comment, eagerly pulling a second twenty from my wallet. "Bareback first?"

She nods, and I attempt to contain my glee. I'm afraid if I get too excited, she may change her mind. "Tell me when you're ready."

After a few seconds of rustling, I hear, "Okay. Hurry up, Edward!"

The money's in the slot and in a move worthy of Clark Kent, I peel off my shirt on the way into the booth. Catching sight of Bella naked from the waist up, I feel the familiar stirring she continues to evoke in me after 25 years, two teenagers, eight best-selling novels, and a movie deal.

She hops on my lap and wraps her arm behind my neck, while I loop mine around her waist. 10…9...8…7…we kiss…4…3…2…I reach up and squeeze her breast…_CLICK_!

"I cannot believe you just did that, Edward Cullen!" she scolds me, completely outraged. I lift my hand in a gesture of surrender.

"Bella, really? What did you expect?" I don't even attempt to apologize; she'd see right through it anyway. I am _so_ not sorry.

10…9…"Just for that,"…7…uh-oh…6…she reaches down and unbuttons my jeans…3…2…her hand plunges inside my boxers and she grabs my hard-on…_CLICK_!

"Oopsie. My hand slipped!" she says playfully.

"Now you're asking for it," I warn, sliding her around so she's straddling me. 10…9…8…I pull her in for a kiss, crushing our chests against each other…5…4…3…2…I slide both hands inside her panties and give her ass a hearty squeeze…"OOP!"…_CLICK_!

Gentleman that I am, I toss Bella her shirt and bra before I refasten my buttons. We sit on the bench and wait for the evidence of our debauchery like two kids outside the principal's office. Bella beats me to it and grabs the freshly developed pictures out of the slot. Her face turns bright red as she examines the photos. "Oh. My. God. Look at us!" She hands the strip to me.

The annoyed expression on her face at the boob grab is priceless, exceeded only by the sly smirk she's sporting at her retaliatory yank. But who am I kidding? I'm not looking at her face.

"Damn, woman. You are still the hottest girl around. Tell me how I got so goddamn lucky."

"I couldn't really tell you. It must be the way you could always sell ice to Eskimos."

**~-4/25/2012-~**

"_I have to hand it to you, Edward. I didn't think there was any way this crazy idea would ever work, but this couples training has turned out to be the smartest thing you've done since figuring out you were meant to be with Bella."_

"_I knew it would be a great business venture for you, Riley. And with the profit you're showing, I'm sure to get an 'A' in my Entrepreneurial Management class."_

"_I don't know about those two," Riley points his chin over toward where Emmett and Rose are goofing around on the mats together. _

"_They'll get it together. Emmett actually takes coaching quite well. You just have to be forceful."_

"_You think Connor and his girlfriend will last?" I ask, glancing over at Connor and Scarf Girl, whose name I've now learned is Lucy._

"_I do," he smiles. "She's a sweet girl."_

"_What about you, Rile? You've had a different partner for each class."_

"_I'm okay, Edward. I'm not ready to settle down yet. Look at all of you guys, one more whipped than the next," he teases._

_I take a good hard look at my brother, my roommate, Connor, and even myself; with all the mirrors in this place, it's not hard to do. "Sorry, dude," I answer him. "The only one whipping anyone into shape in this room is you! And you're taking our money in the process."_

"_Indeed," he smiles. "You better get back to Bella," he says. "She needs a spotter on those chin-ups."_

"_That's my girl," I grin proudly._

_~/~_

**~BPOV~**

"So, Edward, hypothetically…" I start, as he pulls the rental smart car back out onto Route 3.

"Yes?" he smiles, curious and eager to play along.

"What if your son calls you in two months, asking if he can go spend Thanksgiving with some girl he's just met."

"I'd say, 'More power to ya, kid. Hope her mom makes great stuffing.'"

"And then, a month later, he asks to bring said girl home for Christmas. What then?"

"I'd say, "Heck ya, and no guest room for her!"

"Really? Okay, three months later, he calls and begs us to send him on a Caribbean cruise for spring break."

"Hmmm, that one is a little tougher. I'd probably make him pay for that with his own earnings, but I wouldn't have a problem with him going. And yeah, Bella, I'd absolutely let him go and spend the summer with her family, too, as long as he had a full-time job lined up."

"Wow, you are such an open-minded dad!"

"I think we learned from two of the best," he says convincingly.

**~-5/5/2012-~**

"_Dad, there's something I need to ask you."_

"_Don't tell me, Bells, you and Edward want to go to Tijuana for the weekend?" He sounds a wee bit weary, and I wonder if I've tested his patience once too often with our recent trip to the Bahamas for spring break. I suppose his concern is valid, but I paid for the entire trip with my tutoring earnings._

"_No, not quite. It's…about this summer…"_

"_Yeah, Bells, about this summer…"_

"_I know you're gonna think this is outrageous, but-"_

"_There's something I need to talk to you about."_

_Wait, what? "Huh?"_

"_Bells…"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_I've asked Sue to marry me."_

"_You WHAT? What did she say?"_

_He chuckles. "Believe it or not, she said yes."_

"_Oh my GOD, Dad, THAT IS GREAT!"_

"_Yeah…so, we've booked the church for the end of August, right before you have to go back to school."_

"_That's perfect, Dad. I'm so happy for you."_

"_So what did you want to ask me, Bella?"_

"_Edward's invited me to come out to California and work with him at his summer camp program. I'd be coaching kids with reading and writing and working forty hours a week and his parents already said it's okay for me to stay with them and it would be such a great opportunity and..."_

"_Okay," he says so quietly I'm afraid I must have imagined it._

"_Okay?"_

"_Sure. I mean, I'll have to talk with Edward's parents, but I don't see why it shouldn't work out. You can bring Edward back with you at the end of August for the wedding and go straight to school from here."_

"_Oh, Dad! I don't know how to thank you!"_

"_Give me away at my wedding?"_

"_Seriously?"_

"_Yeah. I'd make you my best man, but Billy would never forgive me."_

"_Of course, Dad. I will gladly give you away."_

"_Hey! Don't be so eager to get rid of your old man!"_

_I giggle, "I didn't mean it that way. And thanks again for being so open-minded about the summer."_

"_Bella, I know how it feels to be in love. And you're certainly not going to find me standing between the two of you." He snorts before continuing, "I mean, really. That would be more foolish than those lunatics throwing themselves in front of the bulls in Pamplona!"_

_I fight back an embarrassing sob so I can push out the words I need to say. "I love you, Dad."_

"_Love you, too, Bells."_

_~/~_

**^EPOV^**

"Who's opening again?"

She consults the tickets. "The Random Harolds," she answers with a shrug.

"Jesus, we're getting old. You know that, B?"

"Nope. Our _kids_ are getting old. We're just exactly the same."

He parks the car in lot F and drops a pin on his phone GPS so we can find it again later. Okay, we're starting to get a little forgetful. Reaching into the tiny back seat, he pulls out the picnic basket. "Grab the blankets?"

"Think we need both?" I tease. "You already had your little feel for the day."

"Jeez, honey, is that all I'm getting today? You know what happens when you don't clear out my pipes."

"Oh hell. I never should've repeated that." He offers his hand as we walk toward the entry gates.

"That, my dear, was one of Rose's wiser observations."

Bella smiles, "Oh, better than her suggestion that I should write our love story, thinly veiled as an allegory using a certain Shakespearean tragedy about star-crossed lovers?"

I have to scratch my head at that one, after all these years. "Yeah, I really think you would've been better off going with 'The Taming of the Shrew' instead."

"What?" she pushes me away playfully. "Don't you mean 'Much Ado About Nothing' for its witty banter?"

"Well, Bella, I'm no scholar, but I'd probably have to choose 'All's Well That Ends Well'."

"Hunh," she pauses, considering my choice. "So this is the end for us, then?"

I spy my brother in the middle of the lawn, waving his arms like a mad fool. "The end of our peaceful walk down Memory Lane," I answer, giving Emmett a nod of recognition so he'll relax.

**~BPOV~**

"How'd your drop off go with Nate?" Rose asks.

"He couldn't wait for us to leave him alone," I answer.

"That's my nephew," Emmett says proudly. "He's probably already out prowling the campus for hot girls."

"Nathan doesn't prowl," I scold him for assuming my son is a womanizer.

"I taught that kid everything he knows," Emmett boasts. "Trust me, he's out prowling."

"Bella, here, grab the corner," Edward says, distracting me with the ritual of spreading our Holden blanket out on the lawn. "Where are Jasper and Alice anyway?" he asks, looking around the vicinity.

Rose rolls her eyes, "Their driver got lost."

"Oh, those two are something," Edward chuckles. "The only other people arriving at this venue in a limo are the Kings of Leon."

Rose snorts, "Another bunch of old farts trying to relive their glory days!"

"Hey, watch who you're calling an old fart, Rosie!" Emmett complains.

"Emmett, do you have any good delivery stories for us?" I change the subject, knowing he'll come up with something entertaining.

"As a matter of fact, I had a lady with twins just last week…"

"Oh God help her!" I lament, and Rose quickly agrees.

"Can you imagine? As if one monster at a time weren't enough? And if the birthing doesn't kill you, the teenage years-"

"Whoa there, honey," Emmett pleads. "These twins are only a week old. Let's not grow them into monsters quite yet."

I tune out their familiar chitchat and nestle in front of Edward, wedging myself between his bent knees. Leaning my back against his chest, I drop my head back and let him support my weight with his capable arms. The steady thrumming of his heartbeat lulls me to a deep sense of relaxation, and my eyes droop closed.

**~-10/28/2011-~**

"_Bella?"_

_His soft voice rouses me, and I open my eyes to the wondrous sight of Edward lying next to me on his side, his head propped up by the palm of his hand, a curious smile adorning his face._

"_Mmm?"_

"_Wherever you just went, take me with you next time."_

_Oh, you were definitely there. "Just enjoying the music. It's so relaxing."_

"_You know, you're going to give me a complex if you fall asleep on our first date."_

_I push myself up onto my own elbow so I'm his mirror image. "I wasn't asleep. I promise."_

"_I believe you," he answers._

~/~

"Is she asleep?" Alice's shrill voice breaks into my sweet memories.

"No, Alice," I insist, "_She's_ not asleep."

"Hmmm, looked like you were asleep to me," she pushes.

"Get over yourself, Whitlock," I retort, rousing myself and catching Edward's neck with my lips on my way back to wakefulness.

"How's Junior?" Edward asks, his chest reverberating into my cheek.

"All settled in," Jasper answers. "You know he's gonna kick Nate's ass, right?"

"Sure, Jas," Edward responds. "Just like you kicked mine…for all of the first half of our first season!"

"Low blow, Cullen. I never should've fixed your chipping."

"And _I_ never should've added twenty yards to your drive."

"Beau has at _least_ that over Nate," Jas brags. "And he's held the number one spot for two years already."

"Yeah, before Nate got here to dethrone him."

"Oh my God, you two," Alice cuts in. "Don't make your rivalry their rivalry. Leave our boys out of this nonsense."

Edward chuckles and my head nearly bounces off his chest. "It's all friendly, Alice. Don't you worry your little pixie head over it."

Tired of the old conversation, Rose taps me on my leg. "Bella, what are you and Edward going to do now that your nest is empty?"

I tip my head up to my gorgeous, sexy, hard-bodied husband of 21 years. I know he's thinking what I'm thinking; he always is. We love Nicole to pieces, but she was our honeymoon baby, most likely conceived on our wedding night, of all clichés. And Nathan has always been my Edward in miniature, so how could that be bad? But truthfully, we haven't experienced a moment to ourselves since...well, since our wedding so soon after graduation.

Things have never been better for us. My last book just sold to Summit Entertainment, and the lead role is going to be played by Gray Folsom, the hottest new icon since the vampire craze took hold when we were in school. If my own husband weren't hotness on a stick, I might even be tempted to develop a cougar crush on this kid myself. I promised my publicist I would do a brief tour to promote the movie, but that I'm not interested in any prolonged absences from home.

Edward's at the top of his golf game, and he's Orange County Country Club's most popular golf pro since the club opened in the 1920's. He goes to work each morning whistling, and comes home even happier at the end of every day. After fifteen years as the head pro, he still has a full schedule of lessons five days a week, and averages ten amazing offers a year from clubs all over the world. He turns them all down with humble expressions of regret, knowing full well he could never leave the area. It's not just that he still enjoys a round every week with Carlisle, or that Esme has us for family dinner every Sunday. He genuinely loves 'his' members, even the most demanding, and aches to bring his joy of the game into their lives as best he can.

'_Watch this, Edward!'  
>'You have to hear about the round I just had!'<br>'Ugh, I need an emergency intervention!'  
><em>'_Can you show me that hip turn again?'_

Yeah, I hear the buzz. It's a fact of life I've come to accept, keeping Alice's long-ago mantra close to my heart: _Ignore, ignore_. Girls of all ages will always be flirting and clamoring for that extra Edward smile or touch. But I know that he's always careful where he lays his hands, and I tend make frequent visit to his workplace. I can't resist the way he drops everything when he hears my voice in the pro shop, rushing out to ask me if I need his opinion on anything in the fitting room. Usually, it's, 'No, thank you, I've just stopped by to get my fix of my gorgeous, tan, sexy, happy guy.' He never lets me leave without making me feel as special as he always has, proving each time that he reserves the front row just for me.

**~-8/18/2036-~**

"_Did that feel different?" I hear him ask, as I make my way up the short flight of steps leading to the driving range._

"_Was that rhetorical?" his student giggles. I suppress an eye roll._

"_Not really," he answers evenly. His patience amazes me; even at the end of a long day of teaching, when I'd probably feel like chucking a club or—better yet—a member right off the mat, he is as sweet and giving as always._

_Locking my eyes to the ground once I reach the platform, I turn left and settle myself into the slot at the opposite end of the range from where he's teaching. I pull the 7-iron across my shoulders, close my eyes, and twist slowly, enjoying the luxurious stretch and the fact that I know for certain Edward has spied me. He'll be struggling now to hold his concentration, but he never fails to give 100% to his students. It's just so much fun to torture him. Still studiously avoiding looking at him, I switch out my club for a wedge and take a few experimental swings. Chipping is still my favorite, and I line up my first ball with the nearest flag._

_On my very first swing, I hit the flagstick and the ball drops straight down next to the pin. I can no longer resist; my eyes automatically seek Edward's. 'Did you see what I just did?' I need to know. Cripes, I'm as bad as all the rest of them. _

_His grin is wide and his head shakes slightly, and I know that's for me, but Mrs. Kohler doesn't._

_o)(o_

"_Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Cullen," he greets me finally, strolling over to my spot the moment Mrs. Kohler departs. "That was quite the chip, Darling."_

"_Mmmm, I have an _amazing_ teacher."_

"_Really? What else has he taught you?"_

"_Why don't you take me out to number twelve and I'll show you," I offer._

_He snags my clubs from the stand and reaches for my hand. "What are you waiting for?"_

_Incorrigible. He settles me into his personal golf cart with a kiss that promises more. And when we reach the twelfth tee, a secluded spot far away from the clubhouse and prying eyes, he delivers on that promise, as he has so many times before._

~/~

So, what are my plans for our new reality? Yeah, more of that, whenever we get the urge, and considering that Edward can still moisten my panties with a single look, that should prove to be quite often.

**^EPOV^**

Curious as to how Bella will answer Rose, I eavesdrop shamelessly. It's ridiculous that after all this time, I am still so gone for this girl wedged in between my folded knees. I'd wrangle a giant Hydra for her, Hercules style, any day of the week. And she damn well knows it.

Last year, on our 20th wedding anniversary, Bella gave me a spectacular gift: a framed page from her Comp Sem notebook where she'd scrawled out the advice her 40-year-old self would give the 18-year-old Bella who was busy taking ownership of my heart:

_Keep writing. Don't let temporary setbacks discourage you. Don't be afraid to try something different. Failure is not the opposite of success; it's a necessary ingredient. Don't drown difficult emotions with food. Reward yourself in non-caloric ways (including kissing!). Appreciate the time you spend with your father now- go fishing, watch golf together, talk with him about things that matter to you. Don't allow one mistake to close the door on a relationship that could be everything to you. If your mom comes back some day, try to keep your heart open._

I learned my lesson at Holden, and I thank my lucky stars that Bella was mature enough to give me that second chance. I've never given her a reason to doubt me again.

Charlie and Sue are too far away, but we make it a point to get together several times a year, and we video chat regularly. Charlie always wants to get my take on the tour players, and he's still trying unsuccessfully to persuade me that spending six hours on a quiet boat in the middle of nowhere is a great way to pass the time. They've been wonderful grandparents to both kids, Charlie showing an especially fondness toward his 'sweet Nic'. Now that both kids are at Holden and we're across the country, it's comforting to know Charlie and Sue are nearby.

As for Bella's mom, she never did come back. Her loss, is all I can say. She never got to meet my Bella, this bodacious woman who grew from a girl hidden behind fear and insecurity.

I tighten my arms around Bella's waist, awaiting her response.

"I am gonna love the living shit out of my husband," she answers, craning her neck to prove it to me with a searing kiss.

"Oh Christ, there they go again," Emmett whines.

"Get a room, you two!" Jasper chimes in with his old refrain.

Before leaning back with Bella on top of me, I grab the second green fleece blanket and pull it over us.

"Ahhh," Bella croons. "I thought they'd never leave us alone."

"Gimme!" I demand, reduced to my lone impulse inside our happy green bubble.

O)(O

And they lived happily ever after.._.30 more years so far, as of October 15, 2011!_

**/-THE END-/**

* * *

><p><strong><em>91/2012...BREAKING NEWS_: **CS101 has been nominated for Top Ten Completed Fics of August, 2012 (along with my other story Lather, Rinse, Repeat)! If you are so inclined, please head over and take a look at the other nominees and cast your vote. You can only vote for one at a time, but apparently, you may vote more than once. Just remove the clever space holders with the proper symbols: twifanfictionrecs dot com slash 2012/09/01/vote-for-your-top-ten-completed-fics-august-2012/

**A/N: ** Don't make me name names...you know who you are! You girls whose reviews and friendship I crave. And you better find a way to keep in touch ~ Sundays and Wednesdays with OUaD/KEA perhaps? :). Just one name...**Trip**, the extraordinary non-beta beta whose greatest advice is often accompanied by a question mark. And to **Shattered Glass Rose** who gently reminded me on numerous Fridays that I'd forgotten to post...thank you! Much love to my creative banner makers **xxxshimaixxx**, **vbfb1, Veronica Rust Breville, **and** Diana Husic**. All can be viewed on FB at Born OnHalloween. And to **Kassiah** for rec'ing the story on Fictionators!

It's been a lovely journey with all of you. Thanks for all the love and support for the characters and their writer. This story was very close to my heart, as many of you know, and it's been a joy sharing it. ~BOH


	23. FutureTake:Trophy Husband, Caddie, Daddy

_**This future take was originally written for Fandom For No Kid Hungry, and I post it here in honor of my wedding anniversary tomorrow—27 years with my own darling trophy husband! It's been a while since I've checked in with these two characters, and I hope you'll all enjoy visiting with them once again.  
>XXX ~BOH<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Comp Sem 101 Future Take: EDWARD CULLEN: TROPHY HUSBAND, CADDIE, DADDY<strong>

**AUGUST 9, 2018**

**.**

**.**

**~BPOV~**

"_We are the champions, my friend…And we'll keep on fighting, 'til the end… We are the-"_

"_Ugh_, Edward," I grumble, reaching blindly for the off button before Queen jangles every last nerve ending. Forcing one eye open, I pat the opposite side of the bed, hoping to locate my warm lump of husband. Instead, I find a cool, slippery piece of fabric—not a good trade under any circumstances—confirming that my dear, sweet, early bird has already responded to the little girl whose Daddy is adoringly wrapped around her pinky finger.

I click my lamp on and shimmy up against the headboard, reaching for the foreign object and pulling it into the light. It's a brand new, navy blue ladies' golf shirt, in that sexy athletic cut Edward likes so much.

Well, he likes it on pre-pregnancy me; not so sure that Almost Half-Baked Baby the Second is going to be looking too hot in this. _Not even sure we're going to fit in this_, actually, I muse, scrutinizing the narrow waistline.

But still, how sweet is it that my husband buys me a "lucky" shirt for my first golf match ever? As if offering to caddie for me weren't enough?

With a heavy, but grateful, sigh, I roll myself out of bed and smooth the sheets and comforter into place. Through the thin walls of our "starter house" I can hear Nic's distinctive low-register giggle, and it brings a smile to my face when I picture the inevitable scene playing downstairs.

No doubt, Edward's got our two-year-old hoisted onto his hip, where she can "help" by dropping chocolate chips into silver dollar pancakes fluffing on the skillet. The two of them will sit side by side on the banquette drenching the circles of warm dough with sweet, sticky, New England maple syrup courtesy of Papa Charlie and sprinkling them generously with confectioner's sugar. By the time they're done, there will be amber splotches, melted chocolate freckles, and white powdery talcum decorating the two of them.

It's a surprise to no one that Edward is a phenomenal father, though he's already expressed anxiety to me about future imagined boyfriends he'll have to scare off with a 7-iron, reminding me so much of my own father (substituting a shotgun for the golf club, of course) I have to laugh. Poor Edward. We'll figure it out, though; we always do.

The warm water soothes my achy muscles. Even though I'm fortunate not to have morning sickness this time around—indisputable evidence that this one's a boy, according to my husband, who now apparently takes old wives' tales for fact—being pregnant is a strain on the body. I've kept off my weight since freshman year and regained my figure shortly after having Nic, but I can't say I ever enjoy watching my waistband expand, even if it's only an inch or so at this early stage.

Sixteen weeks.

I trace the washcloth over my swollen breasts, chuckling as I recall Edward's enthusiasm last night. He's such a boob man.

o)(o

_He clears his voice and I laugh as he wriggles into position._

"_Hello, little Nathan or Elizabeth. This is your father speaking."_

_I pull my fingers through his head of hair, which is resting on top of my stomach as he speaks into my navel. "I would like to thank you very much for popping into your mommy's belly and making her boobies grow for Daddy. He appreciates that very, very much."_

"_Edward!" I scold, and he raises his eyes innocently to mine, but his mischievous grin gives him away. I roll my eyes and he returns to his one-way conversation._

"_Now, I suggest you move up a bit, because Daddy's about to be heading in your direction, and I don't want to poke an eye out or anything. As you know, I need quite a bit of space-"_

"_EDWARD!"_

"_Fine. Mommy's horny and you know how she gets, so I have to go now. But I love you so much, sweet baby."_

_He drops a gentle kiss on my stomach, splaying his large palm on top of me and waiting. I sit quietly for a few minutes, soaking in his love and concentrating on my insides._

_Still, nothing. But it's early, and the doctor said it might not happen for another two or even four weeks yet._

"_Edward," I say much softer, lovingly tugging his head up so I can look into his eyes. "The baby will kick when the baby's ready. You know this."_

_He shrugs sadly, but once he moves his mouth to my nipple, all is forgotten in a sea of lust and mutual satisfaction._

o)(o

I get it, though; pregnancy is such an intimate experience between mother and child, it's not until the baby kicks convincingly on the belly wall that the father can truly join in the physical reality.

"Take your time, little one," I say out loud, passing the soapy washcloth across my belly. "Daddy's more patient than he appears."

My khaki skort still zips, thank goodness, and the shirt's only a little tight over my sports bra. I don't want to disappoint Edward, who has obviously gone out of his way to order me a special shirt for my match. Sliding into a pair of flip flops and grabbing my golf socks, I skip down the stairs toward the happy scene in our kitchen.

**^EPOV^**

"Okay, Nicky Noodles. Daddy's got a facecloth with your name on it," I coax my sticky daughter.

She looks right at me, then trails her finger around the edge of the plate, slopping the remains of the syrup over her chin on its way into her mouth.

The third tread from the top squeaks with Bella's weight, and I shift into high gear.

"Quick, Nic. I hear Mommy!" I whisper urgently. She rises to the occasion, offering her hands and face agreeably, and I rid her of the syrup just as the doorbell rings.

"I've got it," calls Bella.

Satisfied she's passable, I twist Nicole toward the front door and propel her with a little pat on the bottom. "Go say hi to Gran and Grampy while I clean up this mess."

I move the evidence as quickly as I can into the sink, but I'm still caught red-handed on all fours under the table when my folks walk into the kitchen with Bella.

"Dear Lord, what's gone on in here?" Mom wonders aloud. I scramble up and greet my folks with quick hugs. Bella smirks at me knowingly and shakes her head.

"Me and Daddy made _goff_ ball pancakes, for good wuck!" Nic announces proudly.

Mom takes in the wreckage, then offers, "Don't worry about the mess, kids; I'll take care of it after you leave."

"Grampy, come see my new bwocks," Nic says, pulling him into the family room.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Mom asks Bella.

"Oh, you know. Middle trimester glow," Bella retorts with perhaps a tinge of sarcasm.

Mom snorts. "I don't know about that, but I _did_ play the best golf of my life when I was pregnant with that one." She tips her forehead toward me and I smile at the familiar story of how my folks "knew" I'd be a scratch golfer one day.

"Okay, Mom, I've got to get some breakfast into my wife before her big match. Now, the fridge is stocked and Nic will probably go down right after lunch for her nap. She was up early this morning."

"No worries, kids. You have a good time and good luck on your match."

"Thanks, Esme," Bella says, as Mom pecks her on the cheek and moves off to join Dad and Nic.

I find a clean spot on the table and set up her yogurt with granola and berries, a glass of orange juice, and her prenatal vitamins. "Breakfast fit for the winner of the Women's Cup. Come on and eat."

Bella looks at me as if I've just handed her the keys to a brand new Maserati, or in her case, maybe a Dodge Ram.

"Thanks, Edward. That was really sweet of you."

"You're my player," I shrug.

"Hmm, I didn't realize caddie responsibilities were quite so extensive," she says with a smirk.

"Absolutely. My sole purpose in life today is to maximize your playing experience, which includes getting you off to a nutritious start."

"Thanks for the new shirt, too," Bella says, drawing my attention to her chest, not that I needed any encouragement there.

"I bought these six weeks ago when you signed up for the tournament," I explain, gesturing to my matching navy polo. "I guess I failed to account for…"

"Expansion?"

I cannot contain my grin, and reply with an unconvincing, "Sorry?" Not really, and she knows it. "Well, it looks fantastic on you."

She scoffs, embarrassed as ever. "Spoken like a horny husband. Seriously, I look like one of the club cougars desperately trying to get your attention."

"It's working." I smirk, can't help it. I turn back to the sink despite my mother's assurances. I can't in good conscience leave her with this tremendous mess.

"Hey, yours has your name on it!" Bella exclaims through a mouthful of yogurt parfait, noticing the 'CULLEN' spelled out on my back in big white block letters.

"Not exactly," I answer. "This is _your_ name."

"You're wearing my name." I can hear her smile before I turn back in time to see it.

"You're my player," I repeat with a shrug, this time adding a wink.

**~BPOV~**

"Nervous?" he asks, sensing my reluctance to exit the parked car.

"My stomach's doing flippy things."

He shifts in his seat behind the steering wheel to face me head-on. "That's good, Bella. It means you care."

"I'm gonna care myself right into barfing." I do my best to tamp down the rising dairy tide at the back of my throat.

"Bella, I'm gonna be right next to you the whole time. Besides, you've already won the grand prize, baby," he says proudly, pointing to his chest.

"So now you're my trophy husband?"

"Just remember, no matter what madness takes place today over the course of those eighteen holes, I'm yours." He gestures over his shoulder, aiming his thumb at our name on his back.

I fold my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes, "You just want me for my bionic boobs."

He leers unapologetically. "They're certainly a major selling point, yes."

"Edward Cullen, sometimes I swear I-"

"Gimme!" He ends the conversation, leaning over the center console and closing his lips over mine. After he's done effectively silencing me, he pulls back a little and looks into my eyes. "Just play your best and stay with it mentally. That's all you can ask of yourself."

"Okay, boss," I answer him.

"Come on, let's hit the range."

"You're coming _with_?"

"Of course. We're a team. Bella, you've got a lot to learn about caddies."

"I don't know, Edward. I've had LeVon for two years and he's never made me breakfast."

"Hunh," he huffs. "That might be cause for disciplinary action."

"Oh geez."

"Come on, baby. Quit your stalling." Edward's at my door and offering me his hand almost as soon as I realize he's slipped out of the driver seat.

Well, _someone_ is highly motivated today. If there's one thing I've always loved about my husband, it's his enthusiasm.

Edward sets me up at the last station and hands me my 7-iron. I start the familiar stretching routine, and as I do so, he launches into his pep talk.

"Just remember, your center of gravity is lower now, just like at the end with Nic. This little tyke's gonna be your secret weapon. Go ahead and hit a few, B."

The first one zings wildly off the toe of the club and almost hits him in the foot. He steps back and chuckles. "Maiming your caddie isn't the recommended strategy here, sweetheart."

"Shit, Edward, I'm sorry. I'm so nervous."

"Okay, hold on. Set up to the ball and don't move. Now close your eyes."

"Edward, I feel really stupid. There are other people here."

"No, Bella," he answers. Then suddenly, he's behind me, pressed against my back, and his arms close in over mine. His breath is warm on my neck and his velvety smooth voice croons softly in my ear, "We're all alone. Just the two of us. Just like Holden. Just you…" We take the club back together. "…and me…" We swing through the ball. "Alone, together. Good. Do it again."

"Ehhhd-waaard!" A whiny voice snaps us out of our bubble.

Edward pulls back, murmuring, "That's it, baby," before he steps away.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kohler," he greets her politely, and I nod courteously to my opponent.

"I could really use a refresher on my chipping stroke before the match," she has the nerve to ask him.

Edward being Edward steps over to her rectangle of turf. Francine shoots me a smug look that I translate to mean, "He may be your husband but he's MY teacher," and I give her a plastic smile that conveys, "This is his baby growing inside me, bitch, and we both know how it got here."

"Mrs. Kohler," Edward explains, leaning in toward her with his arms folded over his chest, "I'm real sorry, but I'm not your instructor today. I'm here for my player." Edward spins around and points over his shoulder at the letters on his back.

"Oh…_honestly_," she snorts. "You can't give me one lousy pointer?"

"It'll be a nice day if it doesn't rain tomorrow, Mrs. K," he delivers with a winning smile.

I bite my lip and keep my eyes on the Astroturf at my feet.

**^EPOV^**

"Welcome to the opening round of the Orange County Country Club 2018 Women's President's Cup Tournament. On the tee," Sully booms to a crowd of zero, "Francine Kohler and Bella Cullen. Mrs. Kohler will tee off first. Best of luck, ladies."

Sully winks at me as he steps off the first tee, all official and puffed up. "Inspiring speech, boss," I rib him, leaning on Bella's driver with one ankle crossed over the other, attempting to appear relaxed for my wife's sake.

Mrs. Kohler steps up, takes a quick practice swing, and whacks her ball 200 yards out into the middle of the fairway. "Nice shot, Mrs. K," I say blandly, and Bella follows suit.

Placing the grip into Bella's hand like an OR nurse handing over a scalpel, I lean in and tell her, "Long and straight, B. Just the way you like me."

"Jesus, Edward," she scowls. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"It's my job to keep you relaxed."

"Not helping," she grumbles. She bends over to tee up her ball, and I realize my own hands are shaking. This is her first tournament and I know she's only here because I talked her into it. Bella doesn't have a competitive bone in her body, at least not athletically. She's fierce about her writing, but her unseen competitor in that is always herself.

She takes a practice swing, then lines up to hit the ball. She clenches her shoulders and blows out a huge breath, takes back the club, swings, and…the ball dribbles off the tee and pushes through about twenty yards of high grass before sinking out of sight.

"I don't suppose we're taking mulligans today?" she jokes, embarrassed as all hell. I reach out my hand for her club and lead her away from the scene of the crime. We don't look at each other as we march out the short distance to her buried ball, but I hear her angrily mutter, "I suck."

"You hit a nervous tee shot," I correct her, handing her the rescue club. "Your goal now is just to get it into safe territory. This hole's not over yet. Remember, you get a stroke here."

She swings through the heavy grass and tops the ball, leaving it almost exactly where it was before. I don't need to remind her to stay down on the next one; it's all she'll be thinking about now.

Sure enough, the third shot is a beautiful one that sails down the middle of the fairway and leaves her an easy pitch to the green. "Nice easy swing there," I praise.

"Too little, too late," she bites back. Fierce is good, but defeatist will work against her. _Time to earn your tip, caddie._

Mrs. Kohler puts a nice swing on her ball, but she's short of the green.

As I hand the pitching wedge to Bella, I remind her to visualize the flight of the ball and watch it bounce on the green and then roll to the hole. Bella hits a nice pitch shot that puts her close to the pin. "Well done," I murmur, trading her a putter for her wedge.

Mrs. Kohler chips up, and she's a little further away.

"Okay, remember, you're net even here and you've got the easier putt," I remind Bella quietly.

When Mrs. K just misses her putt and bends down to mark it, I quietly tell Bella to give her the next one. She looks at me questioningly, but when I confirm with a nod, she trusts it.

"It's yours," Bella announces. Mrs. Kohler picks up her ball and hands it to LeVon for cleaning.

"Make this, you win the hole," I remind her, adding, "It's gonna break left to right at the end, make sure you get it there."

Bella's nerves pull the putter head to the left and she misses by several inches.

"No blood," Mrs. Kohler announces, effectively giving Bella her putt for the tie.

**~BPOV~**

"Well, that was hideous," I complain to Edward as we walk to the next tee.

"It wasn't your best work, but still, you managed to tie the hole."

"Why'd you have me give her that putt?" I ask. "She easily could've missed that."

"Most likely, you were going to tie the hole, and it lays a solid foundation of sportsmanship for the match."

"I didn't realize you were such a marshmallow," I tease.

He smirks. "That's not how it works, Bella. You give her the first few, she'll be generous with yours. AND more importantly, she's gonna have some deep thinking to do when you get to one that matters and you make her put it in."

"Oh you're an evil genius! I had no idea."

"We've only been together seven years. If I told you all my secrets, the next eighty years might just get boring."

"Something tells me that's not gonna happen."

The experience of Edward the Caddie is something new for me. While Edward the Boyfriend and Edward the Husband and Edward the Father are all entirely wonderful, this new Edward is my own personal teammate and coach. I love that I don't have to share him with anyone else at OC. I mean, he's still polite, complimenting a good shot every now and then, but today, he's here just for me. There's something so delicious about him wearing my name, which granted is his name too, but that's only because I'm _his_ right back.

LeVon is a good caddie, but let's face it, he's not Edward. And from the little looks that pass between the two men today, it looks like LeVon's exerting himself just to remain pleasant. Sure, he wipes off her ball on the putting green and reads the distances, but he's more of a valet to Francine than a partner, and she treats him like the hired help, not even using his name, but referring to him as 'Caddie'. _Blech_.

I love the way Edward leans in and whispers instructions that only I can hear. Whether he's reading a putt or giving me encouragement or telling me my tits look great (yeah, that happened on the fourth hole), I'm the only one his words are meant for. It's me he keeps hydrated, my ass his hand pushes up the hill from six to seven, and me he approaches from behind when we reach the twelfth tee, gently placing his hand on my belly.

_Yes_, my darling husband/caddie, _I remember full well the night this baby was conceived._

0)(0

"_Edward, quiet!" I giggle, his nose nudging inside my golf skirt at the top of my thigh. "Someone's gonna hear us!"_

_He lifts his head to plead his case. "The course has been closed for two hours. There's nobody here but us bears." He growls playfully and pushes up my sweater. "Besides, I haven't given you your birthday present yet." With that, he forces my bra up and palms my breasts. His lips tickle at my neck and he finds that sweet spot behind my ear that he knows drives me bonkers. I'm a writhing mess below him on the closely mown grass of the "scenic" twelfth tee._

_Between gales of laughter and useless attempts to roll him off me—which I never wanted to be successful anyway—I force out, "Seems like…more of a present…for you, mister!"_

_He chuckles darkly. "Here comes your part, Bella."_

_And then I feel it; his finger pries its way inside the layer of high-performance fabric and silky lining and boring-but-functional panties. Suddenly, he's all the way inside and twiddling my most sensitive spot and I am singing a much different tune. One that starts with, "Oh fuck, Edward"…and ends with "Gaaaah!"_

0)(0

**^EPOV^**

Okay, so this is not my most professional caddie moment, admittedly, but there's no way either of us will ever set foot on the twelfth tee without reliving that night. Our own private, treasured memory, that sweet spontaneous expression of our love for each other seems to permeate the aura of this place.

0)(0

_Fuck me. What a colossally stupid decision, leaving the condom at home. Sure, this was only supposed to be a quick little birthday 'O' for my girl, but I should've known better than to think I'd be able to resist a moaning, writhing, _clenching_ Bella, for fuck's sake._

_I roll off her with a great roar of frustration that surely scares away all wildlife within a five-mile radius and tuck my eager erection deep inside the confines of my boxer briefs. And I can tell you, that is one massively unhappy cock right now._

_Bella turns her head to regard me, lying beside her on my back in the manicured clearing, my fingers pinching my eyes in frustration. "What's wrong, baby?" she asks, worry cutting through her bliss._

"_Nothing, sweetheart."_

_She tips to her side and props her head up in her hand. "Doesn't look like nothing to me," she retorts, smirking at the bulge in my shorts and making things even worse._

"_Hell, Bella, I never planned on doing more tonight—this was just for you—but you're making me nuts with all your moaning and wriggling!"_

"_What, you're worried about my virtue now?" She shields her mouth from an imaginary audience, stage-whispering a secret to me alone. "You do know—I'm not a virgin anymore."_

"_Very funny. It's just…I didn't bring protection, and we said we wouldn't think about another baby until Nic turns three, and…grrrrr!" I scrub my face with my palms, praying for a moment of maturity._

_Instead, there's a hand down my boxers, wrapping itself around my painfully hard erection. Her lips are at my ear, nipping, puffing tiny bursts of air, teasing._

"_Baby," I warn. "I'm running on fumes here."_

"_I'm ready, sweetheart," she whispers._

"_Bella, we can't. You're the most fertile woman on the planet. Christ, we conceived Nic on our wedding night!"_

"_I'm ready," she repeats more firmly, calmly. I open my eyes and I see the very picture of serenity. This is not my horny wife desperate for a good, hard pounding. This is the mother of my child letting me know she's ready to do it all over again._

"_Yeah?" I grin. I'm ready, too. She nods and smiles and caresses me, elevating my dick to more than just a tool for our pleasure._

"_In that case," I answer, rolling her gently onto her back and pressing into her. "Happy birthday, baby."_

0)(0

LeVon pulls up beside me on the fifteenth tee. Out of respect for the players, our conversations have been minimal today, and certainly nothing even marginally related to the match.

"Shouldn't we forecaddie here?" he asks me quietly. The hole is a sharp dog-leg right and the tee shot is much easier to track from around the corner. On a normal day, yes, it's a wise caddie who's waiting up ahead.

"Feel free to do whatever you like. I'm not leaving my player."

"Caddie!" Mrs. Kohler snaps her fingers for her driver and LeVon hands it to her with a practiced self-control, but I can see he's burning inside.

"You took my player," he growls under his breath.

I smirk and hand Bella her club.

"Thank you, darling," she says sweetly.

"My pleasure, babe," I answer.

"I hate you today," he adds, crossing his arms and scowling.

"I know," I answer, my eyes tracking Bella's tee shot. "Beautiful swing!"

**~BPOV~**

"This is a very important putt, Bella," my caddie informs me on our way to the sixteenth green. "You win this hole, you're up one with only two holes to play."

"It's a really freaking long putt, in case you didn't notice."

"You sink this, you win the hole; worst case, you have an easy two-putt to tie," asserts my ever-positive life partner, whose faith in me and my abilities never seems to waver.

I set my marker behind the ball and hand Edward my ball to clean. I step behind my mark as he's taught me and attempt to read the terrain. Meanwhile, LeVon pulls out the flag while Francine evaluates her putt.

"Mm-hem."

I turn to the voice dead behind me, and find Edward squatting down, face low to the ground. "I do love the view, sweetheart, but I can't read your putt if you're standing in the line."

I roll my eyes and step out of his way. Edward finishes his analysis and delivers me my cleaned ball, along with his professional opinion. "I like two cups out to the right, and remember, it's uphill. Don't baby it."

I nod and replace my ball on the green, lining up exactly as he advised and stroking cleanly through the ball.

"Oh, that is looking _good_, Bella, tracking…breaking left…IT'S IN!" Edward tempers his enthusiasm for the opposing team's sake, but the pride in his eyes is unmistakable as he high-fives me.

Francine has a sour expression when she picks up her marker. "Must be nice to have Boy Wonder as your caddie," she mumbles not quite under her breath.

Edward bites his tongue—visibly. He wouldn't dream of rising to her bait, so I say what he cannot. "Oh, sure, he's wonderful out here on the course, but ugh…I have to go _home_ with this guy. Can you _imagine_?" I might have rubbed my belly just a bit to let her know exactly what this guy and I get up to at home.

The expression on her face is priceless. From the deep hue of red on her cheeks, it is clear that being with Edward is not an unfamiliar fantasy for her. _Ick_, and tough shit, lady.

It's a short walk to the seventeenth tee, and Edward makes the most of his coachable moment, reminding me the match is within my grasp, which helps not at all. I step onto the tee for my "honors" since I won the preceding hole, take a smooth practice swing, and proceed to shank the ball straight into the woods. Edward is dead silent when I return to his side, and he stoically takes my driver and replaces it back in its slot in the bag. After Francine hits, he bends down to ask, "What happened there?"

"My hands are swelling up," I say, pulling open the Velcro at the base of the glove and revealing a severely red and puffy left hand.

"Shit, Bella!" Edward's face drops as he gingerly takes my hand between his own and examines the damage. "You should get those rings off while you still can. Remember what we went through last time?"

How could I forget? Thank God our jeweler knew the dental floss trick. Otherwise, my precious rings would be in pieces, and I don't think I could bear it.

Edward slings my bag across his back and I hand him my glove, which frees me up to twist and pull at the metal bands while we walk toward my ball. "They're stuck," I complain. "And my circulation is all but cut off."

"Jesus, Bella! Here, let me have a try." I ignore the pointed look from Francine as Edward tugs and fusses but makes no progress. "You know, these were a whole lot more fun to put _on_ you."

**^EPOV^**

"I remember," she tells me, and right there, in the middle of the fairway, the two of us return to our photo booth.

0)(0

"_Don't you want to wear a dress or something? You know we're getting our picture taken," I warn._

"_I've never worn a dress to Stockton before," she responds, arms crossed. _

_Uh oh. _Do not make the girl suspicious_, a little voice inside me advises._

"_But it's our last time doing this. Four of four. The complete set." When she doesn't look convinced, I add, "I'm wearing a tie."_

"_You are?" Her arms unfold and she softens. "Well, if it means that much to you, sure, I'll put on something fancier."_

_The bus ride is pure torture for me. I'm the world's worst secret keeper, and this one's been a whopper to hide. At the end of the summer, Mom helped me pick out the ring that's nestled against my hip in my inside jacket pocket. I've kept it in storage with University Security until this morning. That's three whole months of not sharing something huge with Bella, I mean, not that the diamond is so huge, just the fact that she doesn't know about it at all. Even worse, I met with her Dad last week over Thanksgiving break to "ask for her hand", so now even he and Sue know. I just cannot wait until this piece is over and everything is settled and we can go on being us again…only permanently promised to each other. My stomach does another flip and I wonder how I'll live through this. Thank God I only have to do it once in my life._

"_Edward?" Bella startles me back to the present, drawing my attention from the window where I felt much safer looking than into her eyes. She wriggles her hand into place beneath mine on the slippery plastic seat. "Oh, wow, your hands are all clammy."_

_Shit. "They are?" I try to laugh it off but it comes out weird._

_She tips her head and smiles. "Are you nervous or something?"_

_I pretend that her question is outrageous, hoping she won't actually figure out I'm kind of freaking out. "Very funny," I croak._

_She gives me a strange look but then she just shakes her head, probably chalking up my behavior to "acting like such a boy" again._

_As the bus comes to a stop in the town square, Bella slides out of our seat and makes her way down the narrow aisle. I wipe my hands on my pants and tap the box yet again, convincing myself that she won't even consider saying no. _

"_Okay, Bella, in you go, like always." I fumble in my wallet for the five-dollar bill I've made sure to have ready, dropping it on the floor twice and muttering like a crazy person to myself before finally stilling my hands enough to force it into the slot._

"_What's going on out there?" she giggles from inside the booth._

"_Nothing. This Abe Lincoln's been around the block a few times, I guess. Okay, all set. Here I come…ready or not!"_

_Understatement of my life. I quickly pass my hand through my hair, straighten my tie, de-sweat my hands on my pants, triple-check for the ring, take the deepest breath ever…and I'm good to go._

_I peel back the velvet curtain to find Bella in place, same as always, on the 'x' on the bench. I drop one knee to the floor near her feet as I catch the beginning of the ten-second countdown. _

_10…9…_

"_What are you doing, Edward?" she asks, her voice still light._

"_Bella, I have a confession."_

_So much for the lightness. Her face registers terror. Shit._

_8…_

"_Edward? You're scaring me! Last time you got down on your knees, you were begging me for forgiveness."_

_7…_

"_No, nothing like that. It's just—"_

_6…5…_

"…_I brought you here to ask you—"_

_4…3…_

"…_to marry me!"_

_2…1…CLICK!_

"_WHAT?" she asks, her face serious and pale and chilling me to the bone._

_10…9…8…_

"_Yeah. I figured you wouldn't believe me without this."_

_7…6…_

_I pull the box from my jacket and open it, showing her that I'm for real. She gasps and tears fill her eyes and she's not answering and things are not looking real good for Team Cullen._

"_Too much too soon?" Crap. I knew I should've waited until graduation. _

_5…_

"_I was just waiting," she says quietly, sniffling in between words. _

"_Waiting?" My brain has totally shut down and I can't be expected to think clearly. Kneeling—check. Confession—check. Ring—check. What am I forgetting?_

_Thankfully, Bella bails me out, as usual. "You said you brought me here to ask me to marry you. You haven't asked yet."_

_4…_

_Oh! Duh. Her tiny smile is just enough to give me the determination I need to get me through this, and I even allow myself a little joke. "Cripes, you English majors are so literal!"_

_She laughs a little and sniffles a lot and I recite the speech I worked so hard on. Yeah, if college has taught me anything, it's that there is no way I'm going into a moment this important without a prepared, memorized speech._

"_Isabella Swan, you are my best friend and my partner in everything that matters. You know me better than anyone in the world, so you know how much I love you…"_

_3…_

"_You know that I'm so much better at being me when I'm with you. When we're not together, it actually hurts. You make me incredibly happy, and all I want to do for the rest of my life is do the same for you…"_

_2…_

"_Even though we're only 21, we both know this is it, this is our true love, and I don't want to wait. Would you please take my name and wear it not only on your back but in your heart?"_

_1…_

_Hot tears run down her cheeks and I brush them away with my thumb. And still, no answer._

_CLICK!_

"_Bella? You're freaking me out a little bit here."_

_10…9…_

_She slides to the floor next to me, right onto her bare knees on the filthy floor. "Yes, Edward! Of course, I'll marry you!"_

"_You will?" I squeak out, my voice betraying me. _

_She holds out her ring finger, and I slide the simple gold band with its single round diamond onto her finger, where it looks even more perfect than all the times I imagined doing exactly this._

_8…_

_She brings her wide smile to mine and our lips join in a sweet, salty reunion. "I love you, Bella," I tell my wife-to-be, just before hugging her to my chest in sweet relief and utter joy._

"_I love you too, Edward," she whispers back, her voice breaking with new tears._

_1…CLICK!_

0)(0

This set of photos has always been my favorite. In the first, Bella's astonished expression reveals a girl taken completely off guard, though she later told me she'd guessed I'd propose on her birthday or mine, later in the school year.

The second frame shows Bella's streaming tears and my desperation taking hold. In truth, this one is difficult for me to revisit, my anxiety so heavy I can feel it again every time I look back on that moment of not knowing what she'd say. Sure, I was fairly confident she wanted to marry me, but I worried about the fact that she'd only ever had me. Did she harbor secret fantasies of trying out other experiences? Would she regret her decision in five years? In twenty-five? Was I being selfish taking her off the market in her prime? All these doubts swirled in my head in that ten seconds, though I knew deep down what I'd known from our first date—there simply isn't anyone else for either of us.

It's the third photo that I had blown up and framed for our first wedding anniversary. I didn't even crop the large expanse of blank wall that shows above our heads or attempt to correct the blurriness because we were far too close to the simple camera lens. It's the perfect imperfection of the shot that I love so much, and of course, the expressions on both our profiles captured in that single click of the old-fashioned shutter.

**~BPOV~**

It's my all-time favorite picture of the two of us, without question. Edward's eyes are pinched tightly closed and his lips form just the very hint of the beginnings of a smile. To me, his expression tells the entire story of a boy who can't believe he's just gotten what he's always wanted but never dared to dream he might actually get.

For my part, my teary smile is the picture of utter happiness. My right arm tightly squeezes Edward's shoulders and my left hand is outstretched in front of my eyes, where I'm admiring how my ring—_his_ ring—looks on my finger. I will never forget my thoughts at that moment.

_I will happily wear your ring._

_I will proudly take your name and wear it anywhere and everywhere._

_I will joyously spend every day of the rest of my life letting you know how much you mean to me._

"OWWWWCH!" I clamp my free hand over my mouth, belatedly realizing my golf faux-pas. Luckily, we're alone at the edge of the woods.

"Sorry, babe, but at least I got them off! Here, turn around and let me put them on your necklace so we can go deal with this next shot."

"There it is," I say dismally, spying my ball under a low-lying branch.

He sets down my bag and climbs into the brush with me. "Hmmm, there's only one thing to do in this situation."

"What's that?"

He crooks his finger, beckoning me closer, and closer still. Then before I can realize what he's up to, his hand is inside my shirt, copping a feel.

I put my hands on my hips and give him my best long-suffering, married-to-a-perpetually-horny-teenager look, which doesn't deter him in the least.

"This is your big strategy?"

"Yes. You're fucked," he informs me, withdrawing his hand. "Concede the hole."

"What? What happened to 'Never say die'?"

"That doesn't apply to impossible shots. I don't want you to hurt yourself hitting out of here."

"Is that my caddie or my husband talking?"

"Both. How are you gonna play if you break your hand? You take your lumps and move on. You're tied going into the last hole, and you get a stroke."

"Fine," I concede to Edward, just before conceding to my opponent. She smiles smugly at me, and I feel something shift inside of me. "I want to kick her ass," I state very clearly into my husband's ear.

A broad grin sweeps across his cheeks. "Let's do it."

Francine hits a good tee shot on eighteen, just shy of the water that lines the left side of the fairway and curves out in front of the left half of the green. Edward hands me my driver and says, "Follow that ball."

"But LeVon always has me play this out to the right with a shorter club."

"It's going to cost you an extra shot to go around to the right, and you need to win this hole to win the match. You do realize a tie will send you into sudden death?"

"Ugh," I lament, my patience and energy levels wearing thin at this point. There is zero chance I'm playing extra holes today.

I put a tired but effective swing on the ball and it lands within a foot of hers. "Great shot. One more to the green, a couple of putts, and we're off to celebrate," my optimistic helper predicts.

"What a lovely fantasy life you have, my darling."

"Oh baby, I do not waste my fantasies on golf scenarios," he answers, lifting and lowering his eyebrows comically.

"Give me my 5-wood, mister."

He hands me the grip but doesn't let go when I pull it away. Instead, he leans forward to give me some final words of wisdom. "This is the whole match right here, Bella. You get on, you win. Put a nice, easy stroke on that now."

**^EPOV^**

I love being on the course and being Bella's right hand man, but I never imagined how difficult it would be to watch her at close-range and have to live through the tension with her, having almost no control over the outcome myself. All I can do is hand her the right club and offer some decent advice and moral support. The rest is up to her.

She takes a hurried practice swing, a horse making its final approach to the barn. _Easy_, I will her, with all my might. _Don't lose it now, when you're so close._

She blows out a deep breath and straightens her spine, pressing her cute bottom out to anchor her weight. With a much smoother backswing, she swings effortlessly, nice tempo, great acceleration, effective follow-through, and swish! Her ball cuts through the air in a perfect arc, easily clearing the water and landing with a satisfying thunk in the center of the green. Her face reads like the definition of "bliss" in the dictionary. In fact, I'd say that expression she's wearing rivals her 'O' face. Almost nothing better than taking a perfect swing at a golf ball. _Almost_.

I keep the celebration down to a subtle nod and wink so as not to rile Mrs. Kohler before her next shot. I'd love for Bella to win, but I don't want to jeopardize my position at the club with less than exemplary sportsmanship. Bella doesn't need more than that from me anyway; she knows how proud I am of her right now. She basically just locked in a victory. Mrs. K hits a decent shot herself, which I'm quick to compliment, placing her on the outer edge of the green.

"Okay, here's the deal," I counsel my player, pulling out her putter and wiping the blade clean with my towel as we walk. "All you need to do with the first putt is get it close. A two putt wins you the match. Don't do anything heroic, you're sitting at the top of a slope. You're just giving it a love tap, you know…" I illustrate my point with my open palm on her ass, gently, very gently. "No more than that."

"Wait," she says. "Are you sure I shouldn't hit it like this?" _Whack!_ Bella finds the piece of my ass not covered by her golf bag and lets me have it. The pop is so loud the others turn back to look. Bella smiles sweetly at them and continues walking.

"You really should not have done that, darling," I tell her. "You don't want to go into your putt with a 'Gotcha' owed."

"Like you're going to hit me while I'm _putting_?" she asks incredulously. "You're my caddie!"

I shake my head. "Gotcha overrides caddie every time. It's actually in the caddie handbook."

She laughs. "Which you wrote!"

"True enough," I admit, "but the fact remains." I hold out my hands in an exaggerated gesture of apology we both know is false.

And then my beautiful wife, who cares far less about winning an argument or a golf tournament than she does about making her husband happy, raises both hands above her head, putter and all, and stops dead in her tracks.

"Fine," she says.

And I, who care far less about winning an argument or a golf tournament than I do about making my wife insanely happy, reach down and illustrate again with a gentle palm on her ass. "Love tap," I remind her.

We finally all reach the green and Bella goes to mark her ball while Mrs. Kohler lines up to her putt. It's a good putt, but she's still got about a foot left. Bella looks up to me for my advice and I quickly shake my head no. _Don't give her this one_. _  
><em>

"Start it out toward the shadow of the flag. Love tap," I whisper in her ear, setting her cleaned ball into her palm with a pointed look.

"Yes, dear," she mumbles, going through her putting routine as I taught her back in our Holden days. She steps up from behind, lines up the putter for a smooth practice stroke, moves the putter head into place and sets her feet. All systems are go. Deep breath. She drags back the putter head and—

"Ahhh!" With a wild stab, Bella sends the putt careening across the green and bends over, her hand clutching her belly, eyes wide.

I don't even feel her bag fall off my shoulder and crash onto the ground as I rush to her side, my hands instinctively closing with hers over our baby. "What is it, Bella? Are you in pain?"

"Edward!" She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and my heart drops to my shoes. I fall onto my knees, scan the ground frantically for blood and other escaped bodily fluids, and not discovering anything externally amiss, I place my lips onto her belly.

And that's when I feel it. A tiny but powerful thump, right in the kisser. A rush of elation replaces my previous dread. "He kicked me!" Now, the tears start down my cheeks and I quickly place both palms flat against her stomach.

"Again, little guy. Say hi to Daddy!" The next one is a flutter so faint I might've missed it, if I hadn't been poised to receive his message. "Feel that?" I ask, lifting my eyes to Bella's.

She sniffles and nods and has to remove one hand to mop her face.

**~BPOV~**

"Um…I hate to burst into this private moment, kids, but do you think we can finish this hole?" Francine asks, not unkindly.

My sniffles turn to laughter and Edward stands up and kisses me, right there. And not a little peck on the cheek, but an all-out, I'm-never-gonna-forget-this-moment kiss, after which he takes my hand and leads me to my ridiculously impossible putt.

"Sink it for the win, Bella. Uphill, right to left, put some mustard on it."

I line up to my Hail Mary putt, half-expecting the baby to make himself known again. I note with a resigned shake of my head that I've now begun referring to the baby as 'he' where I never had before. I draw the club back and stroke firmly to send it up the hill, which I do in spades. In fact, my putt is so hard it goes up well past where it was before. I look over at my husband, expecting chagrin, but he's all smiles and tears, the big sap. Some caddie he turns out to be!

Mildly humiliated but not really finding it in me to care—which is probably why I'll never win one of these tournaments—I follow my ball across the green and line up once more. I realize this is for the tie, assuming she'll make hers. Love tap, I remind myself, jolting the head of the putter and causing it to go about three inches dead left.

Edward clears his throat, I think to cover up a surprised guffaw, but who could blame him? I am so out of control. I give it one more shot and again send the ball down the hill and past the hole. "Oh for God's sake, Francine. Could you just put yours in and end my misery?"

It's out of order and improper, but Francine steps up and putts hers in for the win.

"_Thank_ you," I tell her, much relieved, reaching out my hand to shake hers. "Nice match."

"You, too. I guess I have that little critter to thank for my victory," she adds with a smile.

Edward congratulates Francine while LeVon shakes her hand, then mine.

"Nicely played, Bella. Right up until the end," LeVon says. "Probably a lousy read by your caddie on that first putt."

Edward snorts loudly and says, "First rule of golf, Bella. Always blame the caddie."

I rub my right hand over my pregnant belly. "Well, honey, you have to admit, I couldn't have gotten myself into this predicament without you."

Edward surrounds me with his body, wrapping his left arm behind me and gathering the fingers of my right hand among his, holding our tangled hands together over my stomach. "Guilty as charged, my sweet wife. And consider me well-tipped!"

* * *

><p><strong>91/2012: CS101 is up for the Top Ten Fics of the month of August, 2012 (as is LRR as well as Kitkat's Down on the Bayou). You can only vote for one fic at a time, but apparently, it's okay to reload and vote again. Check out the list of great fics and vote for your favorites: twifanfictionrecs dot com slash 2012/09/01/vote-for-your-top-ten-completed-fics-august-2012/**

**A/N:** Thank you to Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy and Yessir Pleasesir for their pre-reading/beta skills and honesty. And my deep appreciation and admiration for the ladies of the fandom for allowing all of us to use our love for the stories to support a most worthy social cause. Finally, thank you to all who donated to the cause with time, money, and creativity to make the effort a success.

By the way, that part about the clammy hands was 100% quoted from mr h's romantic proposal at the Reflecting Pool in Washington, D.C.!** XXX ~BOH**


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